


A Case of Sherlolly & Friends

by daisherz365



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Childhood, Drabble Collection, F/M, Family, First Dates, Gen, Married Couple, Multi, Parenthood, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-11-25 22:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 60
Words: 73,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18172277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisherz365/pseuds/daisherz365
Summary: Dumping ground for all of the tumblr prompts that I've done over the years and never posted elsewhere [since 2012, YIKES] but Tumblr. Various AUs/Situations - all of which will be in the summary for each chapter.





	1. Exploration (Kidlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **kelseyrare** asked:  
>  _kidlock: camping and they sleep next to each other, they decide exploring is better than not being able to sleep_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first couple prompts from the tags I'm sifting through seem to be from a kidlock train I had asked for. So enjoy the adorableness :)

 

**Originally posted on June 25, 2015**

* * *

 

“Molly,” Sherlock whispered nudging her slightly in case she had managed to fall asleep with all the goings on outside of their tent. The life outside was blustering with many noises and he couldn’t get to sleep. He hoped he wasn’t alone in that respect. 

He had been able to count on Molly for many things. He hoped she wouldn’t disappoint him tonight.

“Hm?” She hummed as she turned over slowly to look at him in the dark. The small light near the entrance of their tent was the only source for her to get a good luck at her friend. “What’s wrong, Sherlock?”

Sherlock smiled at the sleepy expression on Molly’s face. It was cute on her when she rubbed her eyes. 

“I’m bored. Let’s go explore.” He sat up hurriedly and waited for her to join him. She did a bit slower.

“We aren’t supposed to leave. It’s late, remember?”

He frowned but wasn’t too defeated to get Molly on his side about this. They couldn’t have the fun he wanted if they didn’t take risks. He had taken many for agreeing to share the tent with her in the first place. However, he had seen the way the other girls were staring at him and then at Molly would he had taken up her hand to be his partner during the hiking and other activities. 

Molly was the only person he trusted here. 

“C’mon Hooper, live a little. I’m sure your mum would love to hear that you had a good time. I think she’s fond of me.”

It was a weak point to try but he was willing to try anything to get Molly to go with him outside.

She was smiling which was a good thing. “Okay, we have to be quiet though. Don’t want to stir anyone else from sleeping.” If she had winked at him he knew it would have been too much but the jab at him for already waking her up was enough to energize his spirits about their impending exploration. 

Once Molly had put on her shoes and taken her jacket from Sherlock they carefully exited the tent and tiptoed away from the group of sleeping comrades that had come along on this summer trip. 

They stayed close enough that they wouldn’t get too lost for a while but once Sherlock figured out the lay of the forest he wanted to look at more of it. This was also something that intrigued Molly as well. It might have had a little to do with Sherlock being with her but she hadn’t ever been so far into the woods before either. 

“I hope we don’t get lost.” She voiced her small fear as she stayed close to his side. 

The sound of an owl hooting made her turn her head quickly up to a tree where the bright eyes of the nocturnal bird was looking down on them. 

“I have a great sense of direction. It helps that Greg picked an area that is directly in the middle of the forest to settle into.” Molly wasn’t that convinced but went along with him anyways as he tugged at her jacket’s sleeve.

Sherlock had brought a flashlight with him so they had been able to see plenty of the woods - from the berries, and moss covering the trees to the few birds that were aware at this hour. It was all a lot to take in.

The kicker in this excursion came when Sherlock had pushed her behind him and up against a tree and placed his hand over her mouth when she went to ask him what he thought he was doing.

“Someone’s here.” He whispered quietly to her. She reached for his hand with wide eyes holding onto it for dear life.

His chest was beating fast nearly to the beat of hers as someone came and gone past them. Sherlock didn’t move from their position though as the person came back around to them moments later.

“Where are you little kiddies?” It wasn’t a voice either child had heard before but it didn’t sound good. Sherlock squeezed Molly’s hand and pulled her carefully around the tree that they were up against. He tried to move as quietly as he could after having been forced to turn out their only light source in such a dark place.

Molly was scared already thinking of the bad man who had sought them out. This had been a mistake to come out here, she knew that now more than ever. 

As they drew further away from the voice that was starting to grow agitated at their shadow lurking Molly accidentally fell over a branch and elicited a yelp from her mouth. She covered her mouth when she did even with Sherlock trying to make sure she was okay. He turned to make sure that they were still safe but the sound of the wind whipping up around him made it clear that they were anything but that now.

He sighed, yanking Molly up and started off into a heavy sprint but they didn’t get far before they were cornered by the man.

Molly’s first thought when she saw his light shining at them was that it was bright then the next was that the man that had been trailing them was dirty and ugly. She tucked into Sherlock’s coat at his back out of fear. 

“What do you want?” He was trembling just barely but still managed to keep composed in the face of danger. Molly admired that in him at this moment.

“Just a play a game, boy.”

“I think we’re good.”

“No!” The man shouted, causing birds to fly away from it. “You’ve seen me now you have to play.”

“We really didn’t get a good look. Right, Molly?” He looked over his shoulder at his friend who had tears in her eyes but as he smiled at her she seemed to gain a little resolve.

“That’s right.” She said.

“Can we go now?” Sherlock muttered after a few moments of the man staring at them with a look on his face that made it clear that he was anything but willing to let them go. Didn’t mean he wasn’t going to find a way out. For Molly’s sake. He had dragged her out tonight when they both could have been sleeping. 

“You can.” Another voice came from behind the man.

Sherlock gave out a sigh of relief when he noticed their guide and an officer in training. “Perfect timing, Mr. Graham.”

“How many times…” He started, holding the knife close to the man’s neck. “Not the time for this. You kids go on back. There should be a ranger coming up shortly.”

Sherlock hesitated a moment. The man who was now looking every bit of upset at having his game ruined still seemed like danger but he trusts Graham for all that he was worth. An older and more capable fellow than he was. 

Someday he would be stronger and he’d show them all what he could do. He vowed that now as he got into a crouch. “C’mon Molly. Let’s go.”

“Are you sure?” She angled her head a bit as she inched closer to his back. 

“Of course, I’m sure. Hop on.” 

He adjusted himself to her weight once she was on him and he slowly walked passed the two men.

It wasn’t until the next morning that he learned that the man had been wanted for the kidnapping and murder of several people who had come to these woods. 

Greg had called them lucky but his parents had berated him for walking off like that. The only thanks he got was from Molly’s parents and the girl herself for making sure that she made it home safely after the whole ordeal.

Molly had sprained her ankle but it was a good thing she had broken in, then she feared it would have been so much worse for Sherlock.

“I hope this doesn’t mean you don’t want to explore with me anymore. I don’t make a habit of getting you harmed do I?”

Molly smiled at him shaking her head. “I trust you, Sherlock. I’m sure we’ll get in much trouble together next time.”

He was truly happy to have one person to go on adventures with. He looked forward to the next excursion that they would go on together. 


	2. Ring Pop (Kidlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **anonymous asked:**   
>  _sherlock uses the only money he has to buy Molly a ring pop_

**Originally posted on June 24, 2015**

* * *

 

He only had €3 left from the trip he took with his family to visit a few of his relatives in the countryside. It wasn’t much but his mum had assured him it was just enough to purchase a treat for himself.

He was about ready to go all out on one designated treat for the journey back home when he saw something that caught his eye. 

They had happened to be in a specialty gift shop that had different novelty items with a bonus of candy. From the array of sugary goodness, he found himself eyeing a flower-shaped ring pop. 

Somehow his brain which was still developing at this time triggered flowers with the sometimes giggling ray of happiness that was the young Hooper girl. There wasn’t much left to choose from in colors but he had already decided that he wouldn’t be getting anything other than yellow.

It was her color or the one color he seemed to latch onto and think “Molly,” almost completely. 

So he nabbed it before any other could get their hands on it. 

Mycroft who was waiting at the register with their mum made a face. He was disgusted at his choice. “What are you getting that for?”

Sherlock was used to ignoring his brother’s attitude toward everything in general, just rolled his eyes at his brother. Mycroft didn’t like much. “If you must know it’s for a friend. What would I do with a ring pop?”

“I haven’t the foggiest. What would you do, Sherlock?”

His mum took the candy away so that they could pay. Sherlock with his money and the rest his parents took care of. “Who’s the lucky lady?” HIs mum asked him later as they loaded up the car to drive back home.

Sherlock blushed.

“No one special.”

His mum giggled and ruffled his hair. “She’s got to be pretty special if you’re giving her a ring.”

He hadn’t thought that much into it.

Well, there was no backing down now.

-

The next time that he saw Molly he grabbed her hand and slid it on. No questions asked. She had admired it briefly with a tilted head and a smile.

“I thought of you.” He coughed, feeling strange by saying so.

“It’s lovely, thank you.” Then she had pecked him on the cheek quickly before turning to the side. He could see the redness of her cheeks and decided that he had done well. 

Perhaps his mum wasn’t too far off. She was pretty special to him in her own way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the time of posting this one on Tumblr there was that exact ring pop in an online oriental store which is pretty neat.


	3. First Impressions (Kidlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **missmollybloom** asked for this kidlock prompt: 
> 
>  
> 
> _How about Molly is the new girl in school and Sherlock spends the whole day observing her as struggles to fit in. She even tries to talk to him a few times but he doesn’t talk back As she’s walking home he catches up with her and explains the reason for his silence - he can read everyone but he can’t read her. And so, he wants to get to know her he has a feeling they could be good friends._

**Originally posted June 22, 2015**

* * *

 

Sherlock has never seen someone fail so badly at connecting with people as much as him. Granted, she didn’t look to be a mean person or take anything anyone said to her to heart. She just smiled, paused a moment before moving on to someone else. 

Molly was pretty and wasn’t afraid of anything let alone him. This was the third time she had approached him. She had introduced herself the first time with the same smile she gave everyone but he hadn’t said anything to her. Just stared at her for a few moments before looking away. 

He could still see her in his peripheral and what he saw was a girl determined but beyond that, it was like a blank canvas.

He couldn’t tell what made her tick or what made her smile. She seemed to be happy about anything and everything.  _How very odd_ , he heard his older brother say in his head.

It was one of the only times that he found himself unsure what he was supposed to do with a person. 

He genuinely hated interacting with people but there was something about Molly Hooper that made him want to know something for sure about her. 

* * *

 

Molly didn’t know why he was so silent. She heard the whispers of their classmates every time she approached them but it was like white noise. Something that she gladly ignored. They were calling him names and a few were saying things about her.

She hadn’t done anything ill towards anyone so it didn’t really bother her for them to mock her. Sherlock had been here longer. It wasn’t because had told her, he wasn’t doing much of that but the place where he was usually found sitting had signs of one person being the sole occupant. 

The only thing he had with him was a thumb magnifying glass that he kept opening and closing. 

“Do you like looking at things?” She had asked him. It wasn’t what she had wanted to ask the boy with the curly hair but it was a something at least.

When he hadn’t answered she had just walked away. 

It was only as she was putting her things in her bag and getting ready to walk the two blocks it took to get home that he was the one to approach her. “Molly.” 

She turned and smiled at him. “Sherlock, hello.”

She watched as he looked at her with a confused expression.

“Are you okay?” She asked him as she slid the straps over her shoulders.

“Fine. Are you taking the bus?”

Sherlock saw the way her lip twitched slightly as she shook her head. “Good, well c’mon then. We can walk together.”

“What?” She asked once she realized that he was moving without her. Doubly so that he was talking to her. “You don’t say anything all day now you want to walk home together.”

He was waiting for her by the double doors that were fairly vacant beside the teachers that were there holding it open for the others. 

“Why not?” He shrugged and stayed to the sidewalk at a slow pace as to keep Molly close to him at least.

“Do you listen at all? I’ve been trying to talk to you all day.“

“I can hear perfectly, Molly. You are hard for me to see, to read.” He fumbled coming to a stop at the crosswalk.

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, angling his head to the right at two kids that were in their class. “Those two have been chummy since as long as I’ve known them. Met in diapers, don’t go anywhere without each other. You, on the other hand, I don’t get.”

“There isn’t much to get.” She said. He looked down at her hands that were beginning to mess with the hem of her dress. She was skittish now, it happened so suddenly that he wasn’t aware truly if it was him or the attention he was giving her. 

“I think there’s a lot I don’t know about you. I was thinking we could be friends.”

“Friends?” She echoed as they stopped at her street. 

“Yes. You’d be my first one.” He looked down at her and smiled briefly. “We can start tomorrow. I’ll meet you here and we can go to school together.”

He didn’t give her much room to say anything before he was walking on past her. “I live on the next street over in the yellow house.”

Molly only smiled at the back of his head before she headed down to her house. When her mom asked she told her about the new friend she made. The only one that would matter from years to come. 


	4. In a grocer's shop (Kidlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **anonymous** asked:
> 
>  
> 
> _Regarding the fluffy prompts: kidlock Sherlock gets lost in the grocery and he meets Molly_

**Originally posted June 20, 2015**

* * *

 

Mummy told him to wait right there and she would be right back. 15 minutes had already passed by and she was nowhere to be found and he was stuck standing by the watermelons. 

_Tsk._

What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t just stand there all day. People were starting to look at him like he was an idiot or really with concern. Concerned people made him fidget. 

He got doted on enough from his mother and sometimes his father. he really didn’t know how to handle anyone else cooing at him. 

He moved along the produce section keeping his head down for the most part as he looked around from his mom. Where could she have possibly gone off to? What had she said before she told him to wait?

He was drawing a blank.

It was when he had his head down once more that he bumped into someone and fell to the ground. 

“Oof.” The person groaned from under him as he moved away. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled, his mother had always told him to be polite so he decided to try. The person he had run into was a girl with brown hair that was separated into pigtails. 

“‘s okay.” She said quietly as she sat up. “Are you alone?” Her nose twitching as she looked around them. People were staring. She was uncomfortable he realized as he outstretched his hand to her and once she grasped it he pulled her up to stand. 

He shook his head. “Mummy went off somewhere. I thought she’d be back by now.”

“I’ll help you find her!” The girl exclaimed a bit loudly. “Sorry, I get excited sometimes. My name’s Molly.”

He nodded. “Sherlock Holmes.”

Molly began maneuvering herself between the adults with Sherlock following her. She seemed to know where she was headed and soon Sherlock found himself being looked at by an older man. 

“Dad, this is Sherlock. He lost his mum in the store.”

“She’s the one that’s probably lost.” He mumbled quietly. Molly’s dad having heard it chuckled.

“Well, let’s find her then. Molly and I are just about done with the list my wife gave me. We have nothing but time now before we check out.” 

Molly put her hand out for Sherlock to take. She had this look on her face that made him feel like she knew what was about to happen next and he should definitely hold onto her for the ride. 

He was not as prepared as he was to take off into a sprint beside Molly as her father zoomed through the store only stopping when a familiar worried voice called out Sherlock’s name.

“Oh, Sherlock! I’m so sorry for leaving you like that. I got caught in a conversation with an expecting family. Who are these nice people?” Sherlock marveled at how quickly his Mummy could go from worried and tearful to happy and curious.

“Hello,” Molly said as she dropped Sherlock’s hand and hid behind her father. 

“Hi, I’m Robert Hooper and this is my dear Molly who found Sherlock and wanted to help.” He ruffled his daughter’s hair as she smiled coyly behind him. What a change in her as well to be so determined and then become shy at the face of an adult. 

Mummy crouched down to Molly’s level and pulled Sherlock into her side kissing him on the cheek. “Thanks for returning him to me. He’s very important to me.”

Molly nodded. “No problem.” She said.

Standing back to full height Mrs. Holmes addressed Robert. “Maybe we can get these two together sometime for a play date.”

Sherlock eyed Molly and gave her a crooked smile while the two adults kept talking. She moved from behind her dad for a moment and beamed at him. 

They decided on a day out the following Saturday. 


	5. Band-aids = friends (Kidlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **anonymous** asked:
> 
>  
> 
> _kidlock sherlloly- one of them scrapes their knee and the other has to put on a bandage ^^_

**Originally posted June 20, 2015**

* * *

 

The sound of something falling to the ground had Molly running back to the playroom where she had left Sherlock, Meena & John to check on the status on the snacks her mum was making for her friends. She had been nearly done when the sound startled both Hoopers into action.

“I’ll go check!” Molly mumbled as her mum got ready to follow her. Her daughter was trying to be grown up. It made her smile but made her worry at the same time. 

When Molly entered the room she found Sherlock touching at his knee and the right side of the room in disarray. “What happened?” She asked while Meena helped John to his feet a few feet away.

“The boys thought it was a good idea to try to duel as if they were pirates vying for the princess' attention. the princess being you.” Meena laughed while Sherlock frowned at her as he tried to stand up only to wince. 

“Now you’re just being ridiculous Meena. I said no such thing.”

Molly huffed. “Let me go get a bandage and my mum clearly you both need an adult in the room.”

When Molly came back into the kitchen with teary eyes her mother feared the worst. She crouched down in front of her daughter. “What’s the matter, love?”

“Sherlock got hurt. Can I have a bandage for him?”

She quickly stood up and reached for the first aid kit and began to move out of the kitchen when her daughter grabbed at her apron. “Let me do it. He’s my friend.”

It wasn’t the first time Molly had acted this way when Sherlock was involved. She was fully aware of the crush her daughter had on the boy. It was adorable to watch the two of them interact. 

“Okay but make sure to clean it first.” She reminded Molly as she dug inside for a few bandages and disinfectant spray and handed them to her daughter. 

Molly quickly found her way back to her friends who were all sitting down now. Sherlock still on the floor conversing with John who was sitting close to him. 

“Here.” Molly gestured as she sat down in front of him holding the medical items. Sherlock made a quick grab for the items but Molly swatted his hands away. “You’ve done enough damage to yourself.”

Sherlock noticed that he had upset her by causing damage to himself as she had stated. He stayed quiet only hissing a little when she sprayed the disinfectant on the open wound and wiped it clean with the hem of her jumper. that was one of her favorite ones but she seemed not to be too bothered that it would be ruined with his blood. It did bother him though.

He waited until she was finished applying the bandage on his knee to say anything. “Sorry.”

Molly smiled softly at him before whispering a quiet, “Be careful.” 

Her mother was standing in the doorway as she got up to toss the trash away in the bin. 

“Snacks anyone?” 

Sherlock was giving her mother a look but she didn’t seem bothered by his face only winking at him as she put the tray of sandwiches down on the cleanest area. 

What was that about, he wondered but gave his friends a quick once over before joining in on the treats. He later noticed the bees on his knees. Bees? He wondered what other kinds of bandages she had. 

Molly’s voice of concern flitted through his head briefly. Perhaps he shouldn’t try too hard to find out. 


	6. Brains needed (Kidlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **mizjoely** asked: 
> 
>  
> 
> _Molly is scared after watching a zombie movie (she snuck out of her room while her parents were watching it)_

**Originally posted June 19, 2015**

* * *

 

The drop out of her window wasn’t nearly as terrifying as the flesh and brain-sucking that she had left her parents to indulge it (being on the first floor did help). It was a bit too much for tiny Molly Hooper who only wanted to get away from the horror that she had witnessed for just a little while.

She was careful as she crossed the street using the lampposts as her guide across to the Holmes’ house. She had been there a handful of times but never at night and this was the first time she was going to use another window and not a door to gain access inside of it.

She gathered some pebbles from around the rose bush that was in getting closer to blooming and threw one, two, and then three before the boy who resided inside opened it and began to shout.

“I heard you the first time!” He grumbled before seeing the girl from across the street.

“Molly, what are you doing here?”

She shrugged her shoulders halfheartedly as a barely-there smile slipped onto her face and off as Sherlock dipped back into his room for a brief moment before tossing out the rope ladder that he kept in there for times like this. 

She quickly made her way up to him, accepting his hand as he helped her in the room.

“You’re shaking.” He observed as he shut his window and gave her a proper once over. 

Molly made a noise but otherwise didn’t say anything about it. She sat on his bed, waiting for him to join her before she explained what had her positively shaken with fear.

“Zombies.” 

“Those ugly things that are supposed to eat people’s brains?”

Molly only nodded tearing her eyes from his at the tone he gave her. Sherlock thought it was stupid for her to be scared of such things.

She fully expected him to say as such but instead, she felt something wrap around her. A blanket with skulls and swords on it. “It’s not real Molly.”

She pulled the blanket closer to her and wiped her eye. 

“I know. Still scared me, Sherlock.”

“I’ll protect you from them until your parents come in the morning.” The older boy had already figured that they would know that she was here. She had a habit of coming to him for his aid when she was frightened. This was the first time he had her over for a night occasion.

He was sure his mother wouldn’t mind much.  His brother probably would have some words. 

“Promise?”

Before answering her he got up off his bed and reached for the stick sword that was sitting against his wardrobe. “If they come near you I’ll cut them down one by one.” As to demonstrate he flicked his sword from side to side as if slicing something in two.

Molly smiled at him as he moved over to his window to stand guard. 

His brother found him slumped against it the next morning when Molly’s parents came to get her.

“He’s really sweet.” Her father told him as he packed Molly away while Mycroft moved Sherlock onto his bed to rest more comfortably. Mycroft only nodded, He wasn’t used to people saying nice things about his brother. It was usually insults flying about. 

He approved of it more than he could say so he just smiled as he shut the door as the Hoopers crossed the street. Molly was a good influence on him. That much he could already tell. He made sure to cover him with his favorite blanket that the Hooper girl had been using. 

He found that interesting as the boy wouldn’t let anyone touch it. 


	7. The Otherside is Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was written for theconsultingkingslayer's birthday - she wanted sherlolly or mythea - this is a bit of both. 
> 
>  
> 
> _When something happens to Mr. Holmes, Sherlock rushes home to be with his family taking a worried Molly in tow. Anthea dishes some advice on how to navigate a distressed Holmes having plenty experience with the older brother._

**Originally posted June 12, 2015**

* * *

 

They had gone out for dinner when the call came in. Sherlock had been annoyed because it was his brother but his annoyance soon turned into anger and distress. Molly heard the words, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” “I’ll be right here.” Then he had her trailing after him as he grabbed her hand and they were running out of the restaurant.

Molly nearly breaking a heel at the pace they were going.

“Sherlock, what’s wrong?”

He wouldn’t give her an answer. 

There hadn’t ever been a reason why he wouldn’t confide in her about something. She felt it had to be important to him whatever it was. 

He waited until they were in the elevator of a very prestigious hospital - not Barts to tell her what was going on. 

“My dad is here.” 

He didn’t give her any more than that. She blamed it almost entirely on the fact that they made it to the floor where they needed to be going. 

They were met by Anthea who was sitting in the waiting room while Mycroft was inside. 

“You should join him.” Anthea had told Sherlock as she nursed a cup of coffee in her hands. She gestured to the seat next to her and Molly plopped down. 

“What happened?”

“Heart attack. It’s one of three he’s hand in the past couple months.” Molly’s eyes widen at the number. That wasn’t a good thing at all. 

“Do they know what’s causing them?” The doctor in her had to wonder how there could be so many at once. 

Anthea shook her head but smiled. “He's in the best hands this side of the world. How are you doing, Molly?”

It had been a while since the two women were in the same room with each other. the last time involving a cover-up. There had been a lot more yelling then, today there was this eery calmness that she wasn’t the biggest of fans of. 

“He wouldn’t say anything when Mycroft called. I think it’s a miracle he didn’t just leave me at the restaurant.”

“He wouldn’t do that. He needs you around.”

Molly tried to hide her grin. “How would you know that?”

“Same reason that Mycroft came and got me out of my own bed when I was just falling asleep so that I could sit here with or without him.”

That was truly telling about Mycroft. He said he didn’t need people yet here Anthea was waiting with her because he woke her up possibly afraid of what was about to happen. He didn’t want to do it alone, she realized. 

“You’ve been here before…” Molly trailed off looking up as Mycroft came in looking disheveled and tired. She had never seen him that way. Anthea got to her feet and passed him the coffee. It hadn’t been for her. 

“Miss Hooper, nice of you to come along.” He didn’t smile but she could tell that he wasn’t upset that she had accompanied his brother. Not right now anyway.

“We were having dinner.”

“Yes, I suspect you don’t typically wear evening gowns at home.”

Molly smiled at him in kind. She knew this was how he was but tonight he was using his amusement as a way to deflect the pain he was feeling. She had seen it before with Sherlock. Except that wasn’t the case. He used his other defense mechanism; shutting everyone else out. 

Mycroft’s phone started ringing and instead of ignoring it he excused himself and went to take the call. “How do you handle it?” Molly turned to Anthea who had reclaimed her seat. 

Anthea hummed. “Sherlock is different than Mycroft but I think they share a lot of the same mannerisms when it comes to their parents. Giving them space doesn’t really help because that’s what they want but what you need is to be there in the smallest way. Like I did just then with coffee - given your history with Sherlock I wouldn’t do that but you’ve always been good with reigning him back in. Talking to him might be better or a small touch just so he knows you’re near him. It’s oddly comforting to them to have someone to turn to.”

Molly understood that completely. She had navigated small bouts of this before but it hadn’t ever seemed so bad. 

the two women sat there chatted about other things before Sherlock had come out to get Molly. “My dad wants to see you.”

“Me?” Molly had met Sherlock’s dad once when they were visiting him. 

Sherlock nodded and waited until she was standing next to him to begin walking in the direction he had come from the double doors. As they walked side by side Molly looked over at Sherlock trying to get a feel for what he was thinking or what he was feeling. 

Distraught was the first thing that she saw. 

Losing her own father had a similar effect on her. His dad was still alive but she didn’t want to think what would happen if things had turned worse for the Holmes family.

Before they entered the room where his mother and father was, Molly stopped him by latching onto his arm. He was jerky as he looked down at her. His gaze heated and conflicted and she had done everything in her not to just take him in her arms fully and hold him. 

She loosened her grip and slid her hand down to his fingers, entangling them together and squeezed. His whole face slackened a bit as he held his head up staring straight ahead. He squeezed her hand back when they entered the room.

* * *

Molly was smiling by the end of her time in the hospital room where life had been halted for a little while. Mr. Holmes as she kept calling him even though he gave her his name and said to use it, had been telling her about how happy he was that she had come along. It seemed she was a welcome addition to the family even though she wasn’t officially there yet.

Hint received. Nudges in Sherlock’s direction even though his mind was more preoccupied with the health of his father who was less fussy than anyone she had ever met. 

“I’m going to be fine, William. Stop looking like a puppy though I’m sure you’ve given Molly plenty of those faces.”

Sherlock cleared his throat and shook his head. “How is that relevant?”

“She’s here.”

She was there standing next to him and holding his hand. He was well aware of where she was.

“Yes?”

“You don’t bring your dates with you home.” His mother chimed in.

Molly knew what Sherlock was going to tell them before he opened his mouth to reply. “Molly isn’t my date. We’re in a relationship.” 

To him, that meant two separate things. His parents chuckled, his father coughing a little as his mom helped her husband put the breathing mask back over his face. He needed to rest. 

“Well then perhaps you should bring her the next time you come over.” Mummy continued.

“Fine.” He huffed, “Make sure you take your medicine on time. I don’t want to be here again.”

Molly nudged him. “He’d come back another time. He loves his family.”

“We know.” His dad sounded muffled as he let the machine help him breathe some.

“Well, you don’t have to be so blunt about it.”

“We learned from having such a blunt pair of sons.” 

That they did. 

“It must have been interesting having them like that.”

“Never a dull moment, dear.”

Molly smiled looking at Sherlock who was staring at her. She quirked an eyebrow at him. She hadn’t even noticed being so focused on his parents. 

“I’d have to agree with you there.” 

Sherlock moved closer to her pressing his head against hers while full-on ignoring whatever it was his parents were babbling on about and whispering, “Thanks for being here. I didn’t give you much of a choice.”

“You did, I could have left if  I really wanted to.”

He scoffed.

“Right.”

She laughed at him causing him to smile, just a little. It was enough for her right now. It would be better soon enough.


	8. Flustered Teachers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **mizjoely** asked: 
> 
>  
> 
> _language teachers who compete to see who can make each other more flustered in front of the class in the other language au. Sherlolly!_

**Originally posted May 24, 2015**

* * *

 

Dr. Hooper didn’t know how this started exactly though somehow she didn’t feel like she was the blame. Mr. Holmes on the other hand probably would say it was seeing as his urge to make her red in the face in front of her entire class of teenage students was something he had gotten to liking quite a lot. 

It was becoming routine actually. It was kind of fun for a while actually. Mr. & Mrs. Watson both athletics supervisors would probably say that it was weird for how long it ran before someone else got whiff of it and both teachers were found sitting in the principal office for misconduct in class.

Teachers being sent to the principal office for something like that was almost unheard of it. Unless you counted MorMor as the students had come to calling the two male teachers who were just a bit scary with a love for talking about death in Science and Mythology. How that worked no one was the wiser but yet here they were Mr. Holmes & Dr. Hooper sitting in front of the principal - Mr. Holmes (the older one).

“I must say I’m disappointed in you, Miss Hooper.” He started avoiding his brother’s eyes altogether. Mycroft knew if he looked at his brother that he would probably say something that started a fight between them. More than likely Sherlock would get fussy and then something would have to be done about it. He decided he didn’t want a bigger headache today than the one that was already forming.

Mycroft fully excepted an apology from the normally quiet woman but instead, she surprised him by saying something else. Something that had him taking off his glasses and sighing heavily. “Not my fault really. Mr. Holmes decided to interrupt my class again and say ‘Af̱tó apóchro̱si̱ tou rouz den eínai katálli̱li̱ gia káti tóso apló óso didaskalías . Tha perímene íso̱s kápou pio idio̱tiká, ópo̱s to ypnodo̱mátio.’ ( _That shade of rouge isn’t proper for something as simple as teaching. I’d probably expect it somewhere more private like the bedroom._ )

Molly knew that their boss would understand what that meant, but then Sherlock had to go and defend himself. In what other way than he knew how but in tossing the blame back to her. “If you hadn’t gone on to… ‘Quia cum illa tamquam shirt placet. Non mutus Holmes. Habes appellationis.’ ( _As if you were wearing that shirt because you like it. You aren’t dumb, Holmes. You have appeal._ ) 

It went like that for a little while until they had gotten to the nature of the problem. It somehow involved the students pilfering through dictionaries to find out that in the end Sherlock had said something incredibly inappropriate about wanting to take Dr. Hooper on a desk. Which elicited her to smack him and tell him to leave with some choice curse words in several languages starting from her Greek (the language she taught) all the way to Irish which was somehow much fiercer than her plain English tongue. Her face was redder than he had ever seen it and it had made the tall lanky man grin smugly.

That was until they found themselves here when someone had tattled to the assistant principal. Not a student but one of the other teachers have been passing by and heard the discussion. 

“Enough. I should suspend you two for this. The board won’t be happy that I didn’t but Mummy would like to hear about your interest…in a woman.”

Mycroft was grinning which made Sherlock scoff and frown. “I don’t think this is the way you should tell her that I’m dating Molly.”

“Dating?” Molly echoed very much confused by all of this. She had thought this was some sort of game for him. Not something he was serious about.

Sherlock ignored her mostly as Anthea (the assistant principal) had her own devious smile as she looked over at the lost teacher in all of this. The woman had to know that a Holmes never tried this hard to rile up a woman unless he actually wanted something to do with her. 

“Your indiscretions are one of the many things we discuss over tea. That makes it boring if I don’t tell her something.”

Sherlock was quick to figure something out. He turned to Molly, stoned face as he returned to the language that he used in his own classroom to ask her to Mummy’s.

‘Tea veniesne mecum ad matrem.‘ ( _Go with me to tea with my mother._ )

Molly sat quietly for a moment, thinking on what he said. It frankly confused her and pissed her off at the same time. She didn’t know if she got him at all. ‘Ti?̱ Af̱tó den eínai to pó̱s sas ro̱tí̱so̱ . Eísai apó to myaló sas, an nomízete óti tha páei polý me af̱tó ótan mou embarass synechó̱s . Échete név̱ra apó atsáli’ ( _What? That’s not how you ask. You’re out of your mind if you think I’ll go along with this when you continuously embarrass me. You have nerves of steel._ )

Sherlock could hear both principals getting up to leave the room as he reached over and took one of Molly’s hands. He cut the language barrier. It would be better if he did this from a mutual tongue even though they understood each other. That had been the fun part of all of this. Now, he needed to be direct and serious. Two things that he rarely was with her or at least that’s how she viewed it.

“Molly isn’t it obvious.” He paused, as he swiped his thumb over her fingers softly. “Te volo.“ ( _I want you._ ) “All of you, even the out of bedroom person. You’re beautiful and you go along with me even when I’m upsetting you. I don’t mean to. It was fun and we can have more fun. So won’t you be my date? We can use our tongues whenever we want outside the classroom.”

She laughed at him. 

He let go of her hand because he was startled. He wasn’t expecting her to react that way. He didn’t know if it was a good sign or not but he liked the sound. It was tethering and cute. He smiled unsurely.

Finally, when she stopped she leaned towards him and whispered softly the air brushing against his mouth, “Tha doúme pó̱s tha páei .“ (We’ll see how it goes.)


	9. Two Miserable People at a wedding [MYTHEA]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mythea alert!
> 
>  **thebethanyrose** asked:
> 
> Ooh, Mythea and 22 please!! :) xx 
> 
>  
> 
> _#22 two miserable people meeting at a wedding au_

**Originally posted April 30, 2015**

* * *

 

Mycroft could partly blame his lack of enthusiasm about being at a wedding on his brother. He had gotten here, nearly begged and then ditched him almost immediately to speak with Miss Hooper, his close friend who had also come to this as his request. Mycroft genuinely thought Sherlock wanted a way to be seen out with the girl but for it seems completely unrelated to anything. In fact, the newly wedded couple were a pair he had owed a favor to - when the wedding invitation came in he had almost declined instead coercing his older brother to go because “they hadn’t been out together in ages and weddings were relatively happy times.”

  
He hadn’t readily agreed with that either but one call from his mother and he was sighing and telling his brother yes. He could never say no about matters she cared about. Surely he hadn’t cared much for anyone here beyond his brother but that’s also his life by definition. 

  
Mycroft had taken to grabbing a scotch from the bar and placing himself in a chair where everything was readily available for his eyes to see. His brother was in the corner with Molly, chatting away. He looked delighted. 

  
Soon someone sat to his right and he glanced at her briefly. Her eyes were glued to her BlackBerry for the few minutes before she must have felt him looking at her and she looked up at him. “Hi.” Then she turned back to her device as it beeped. 

  
He didn’t mind her really. He did wonder why she was here if she wasn’t going to mingle with anyone. Nothing could separate her from her phone. She was pretty, he noted before he took a long pull of his drink and then his phone was beeping. 

  
He ignored it, at least the first time. The second and third time his text alert pinged in and he sighed, before taking it out. He looked briefly at who had sent it before placing it back in his jacket.

  
“Were you dragged here?” His partner at the table grabbed his attention once again. She put her phone on the table and traded the glass of wine that he hadn’t seen automatically focusing on her person instead. 

  
He nodded his head in the direction where Sherlock and Molly were now dancing still fairly close to the outskirts of the dance floor. He wasn’t totally surprised. “My younger brother knows the bride and groom. That’s his goldfish…I suppose.”

  
“Goldfish?” She echoed. He sometimes forgot that not everyone was used to his terminology. They had just met.

  
“Someone you trust completely, no questions asked.”

  
“So his girlfriend?” Mycroft eyebrows raised. “He probably wouldn’t use that world. They are an interesting pair.“ 

  
"I’m Anthea, by the way. I’m the groom’s PA.” Mycroft shifted his attention to the happy couple who were talking to family at the large table that the majority of the main wedding party were assembled at.

  
The man didn’t look important to need a PA but Mycroft didn’t say that. He hummed. “Mycroft Holmes. Unwilling attendee, sorry.” He seemed to realize she probably had a lot to do with this shindig.

  
She smiled at him. “I had very little to do with this. I had to attend to a few nightmares this morning, however.”

  
“A missing groomsmen?” He realized out how amused he was after he had said it.

“In fact, two of them and a very expensive bottle of champagne that had gone missing from the kitchen.”

  
“Lovers.” He nodded without needing to ask. He had seen more than she could imagine. 

  
“For years without anyone’s notice. Interesting morning. So what do you do, Mister Holmes?”

  
He didn’t think she would do anything with the information but secrecy is a part of his job as well as his life outside of it he chose to give her a vague answer. “Many of things dear.”

  
His phone beeped again and he shot a look to where Sherlock had been previously only to find him nor Miss Hooper there. He grumbled as he withdrew his phone to actually read the text that was indeed from his brother.  
_‘Give her your card. Then come quickly to the staircase on the far right once you exit the banquet hall. I need your assistance.’_

 

“Duty calls?” She answered taking up her phone again.

“More like an annoyance. I must leave you. In case you find yourself in need of more excitement. Professionally.” He added awkwardly. People took things in different ways. He hadn’t talked with someone he didn’t have a docket on in a long time. 

He had enjoyed it, however how small the interaction was.

Anthea slipped the card he slid across to her in her small wristlet before getting to her feet. “Why not start now, sir?” 

He had finally figured out what made her more bearable to talk to. She had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Not bad, just amusing. 

He stopped as he got to his feet thinking about it as another text came through. 

He extended his arm to her, “Shall we?” 


	10. And then there were three [MYTHEA]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **mizjoely** asked: Anthea telling Mycroft she's pregnant.

**Originally posted April 17, 2015**

* * *

 

Anthea was prepared for anything. It was in the job title, or lack thereof a title. PA - personal assistant was used loosely to describe many tasks. It had never really meant anything to her. She had learned that early on in when she was first recruited. Then she started dating the man. 

She was good at going along with things. Even when they would make a normal person dizzy. This was something that made her - the partner in all things concerning Mycroft Holmes positively dizzy. That was partly a symptom, and partly the idea of bringing it up to her husband.   
Usually, she had some sort of idea as to how he would react to anything. This wasn’t just anything. It had nothing to do with a national crisis or some secret of Sherlock that she was supposed to be keeping to herself. No, it was a personal matter. 

It was simple really. They had spent a lot of time in bedrooms and not together getting closer to put it delicately. She could tell him anything and he’d be fine. His mask would be on this week. Important government things were being dealt with this week and she almost skipped on telling him. He always had fun working things out himself. She could let me figure it out for another week but, the preparer in her wanted to just blurt it out. 

That night when he came home he was exhausted. Loosening his tie as he slumped into his chair by the fire and she brought him some tea. He had given her the day off, though she hadn’t really been off. At home managing things from her laptop or mobile in between films that she had on the telly. 

“How was your day?” He asked after thanking her for the warm beverage. It always helped him unwind despite having at least three cups a day, maybe more if he was stressed. 

She sniffed as she settled on the arm of his chair. “Interesting.” 

Her tone was off. Mycroft tilted his head to look over at his wife. She was smiling a little, but he could tell there was something troubling her. Like most people he dealt with she couldn’t hold a mask when things mattered to her. At least in the sanctity of their home. Alone. 

“What is it, dear?”

“Nothing serious. Well…” She trailed off, obviously, that wasn’t how she wanted to phrase it. “Perhaps a little serious.”

He placed his tea to the side and pulled her into his lap. He took a look at her properly. “No, not bad exactly though you might need to enlighten me, darling.”

Anthea hummed trying to figure out the best way to tell him that they were gonna get to use one of the several rooms in the house for something special as this was.

She thought of how the young Dr. Hooper had done it with Sherlock a few years ago. Sherlock had just about burst when she told him, but Mycroft was slightly tricky. She knew it would surprise him. He was older than his brother and the idea that he still had it in him to perhaps produce an heir was something they hadn’t exactly talked about.

Being direct had always worked so she just came out with it. 

“One of the rooms is gonna need to be designed into a nursery.”

She almost started laughing when he leaned his head into his palm as it rested on the opposite side of the chair than where she was sitting on him. 

“You don’t say.” It wasn’t exactly what she expected but very close. “Mummy will get her wish I suppose.”

“What about you?” 

He was quiet for a moment, eyes brightening a tad bit as he turned his attention back to his wife who looked just shy of being anxious. It had always been important to her to know his opinion on matters; work or not. Despite the idea that he valued hers more. He required her aid more times than he could openly admit to anyone…else.

“I’m looking forward to it. Another mission for the two of us to go on together.” 

He smiled. 

She let out a sigh, leaning closer into his chest. “You worry me, sometimes. If only I didn’t know you so well.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He chuckled, “I believe that’s the reason this happened in the first place, Anthea.”

She nodded. 

An adventure she looked forward to taking on with him. She was curious as to how he would deal with it all. She had been around when they got to spend a weekend with Sherlock’s child, but this was different. This was something of his own. How different could that be really? She couldn’t wait, really.


	11. Not Too Private

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a little drabble I wrote for Sherlolly Appreciation Week in 2015.
> 
> The prompt was _first kiss_.

**Originally posted March 3, 2015**

* * *

 

They were sopping wet. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky but despite that, both Molly and Sherlock were drenched in water and other kinds of muck.

Molly wouldn’t say anything to him. Not that he was saying anything else either. He had just kissed her as they were running away from a gangly group of men with grubby teeth and several sharp objects in hand.

On their way out they had taken a small detour through a residential district that had a large water fountain surrounded by children and dogs and they had kind of sloshed through it and got entangled in some leashes. Which had abundantly made it harder for them to make it out clean.

Where did the kissing come into play?

Somewhere after she had helped him out of the dogs and children who had been giggling and he had just snogged her swiftly causing gags and patter of feet.

He had even done all the things one would expect from a proper snog. His hands held her tenderly and he made sure she had no other view of it other than him presses against her. Flesh to flesh.

If it hadn’t been for how cold she was she would have probably gone for another one. That and Sherlock had placed her on her feet, grabbed her hand and began rushing off again.

It wasn’t until now when Mrs. Hudson was fussing about and Sherlock was claiming that he wouldn’t get pneumonia that she really looked at him. He looked like a drowned rat but he seemed to be radiating some buzz.

He wouldn’t stop moving even as he left a trail of clothes on his way down the hall.

If Mrs. Hudson hadn’t been there she was sure she might have been tempted to follow him. Martha had offered her some of her niece's clothes and a nice cuppa and she had accepted despite the tingling in her lips still.

When she made it back up he was tending the fire and was wrapped in a sheet. She could guess that there want much under there and it made her start laughing.

He whipped his head in her direction. “What?”

She shook her head still giggling. Then she stopped as the realization hit her full on. “You kissed me.”

She expected him to deny it. Not because it wasn’t true just because he could.

He disappointed her though. “Yes.” It was simple and he didn’t turn away from her eyes. He strode over to her even as the question left her mouth quickly.

“Why?”

He had never done that before. Not on the mouth. Never.

“I wanted to. Why else?”

Molly drew in a deep breath, “a distraction. We were surrounded by people.”

“So.”

“So?” She was baffled. “Figured you’d kiss someone in private out of need for your own privacy.

"No time for that really.” He whipped. “Before you say another word I’m going to kiss you again. In private this time. Since you have a preference apparently.”

She wanted to correct that statement but she couldn’t seem to find it in her with him pressing close to her and going in for another dose. It was much more intimate this way.

Perhaps she did have a preference.


	12. Dance Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **anonymous** asked: Unilock sherlolly- 37 please (with lots of fluff :3)
> 
>  
> 
> _#37 “Wanna dance?”_

**Originally posted March 2, 2015**

* * *

 

 

Molly didn’t want to come to this party but she hadn’t wanted Meena to go by himself either. They read stories in the papers every Sunday morning about something terrible that happened to a girl at these parties or after the party. She didn’t want anything to happen to her friend just because she wanted to have a fun night out of the dorms.

The party was split into two rooms but she had stayed to the main room mostly to keep an eye on her friend. She was dancing with Vince, a bloke who she took one of her lab courses with. Nice guy and nice to look at according to her friend.

Molly didn’t see what the fuss was all about. Then again she was often focused on the studies than who was sitting next to her or across from her.

Not true.

“How droll these parties are? Everything is the same. One room people are getting completely lost in the kegs and the other is the high life.” Molly turned to see the guy who she did actually share a work station within her Chem course.

Sherlock, she knew his name was. He looks as bored as his tone was giving off.

“Why are you here then?” She had to yell a bit so that he could hear her.

Sherlock looked down at her. “I could ask you the same, Miss Hooper.”

She just smiled at him. “How about a dance then? Two people who don't want to be here can probably amount to something.”

Sherlock gave her a half smile, not because she made him smile, not completely. He was adamant about that. He was amused that she was being so bold. She didn’t talk much in the lab unless they had to work together.

He straightens up and pushed himself off the wall that they were posted up against. “That’s my line. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” He made a grab for her hand but he didn’t drag her to the fray of sweating bodies. No. Instead, he took out the door that was close enough for a quick escape.

“No one is out here.” She mumbled looking for a second and seeing Meena still enjoying her time with the fellow.

“That is the point. Is there a problem?”

She shook her head. “No music.”

He took her around the waist and kept the hand he had pulled when they were inside and took a few steps closer to her. “No problem.” He mumbled as he started humming something lowly in her ear.

She didn’t know what to think of this but she let him lead and she couldn’t help but rest her head against his shoulder as he leaned his head against her neck humming still.

Everything around them was silent but this was lively and she enjoyed it.

Meena found her after a while. Sherlock had taken her around twice before they took to spending a small moment in a proper snog. Her doing, a proper thank you for the dance she had said.

“Sherlock Holmes?” Meena had gasped when she found them.

“Yes.” He had merely looked up at the newcomer. Molly jumping back the little bit he let her from where his arm was swung around her keeping her there.

“Do I need to come back?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said again only for Molly to shake her head. “I will see you tomorrow.” Breathless and all embarrassed.

“So we can finish?”

“Sherlock!” She chided pushing him just enough to make him laugh. “Tomorrow, Miss Hooper.” He pecked her softly on her forehead before Meena followed Molly who was trying to get away fast.

“How did that happen?”

“We were dancing.” She gave that little bit.

“He doesn’t seem like the type to dance like that.”

Molly colored. “No…not like that.”

She carried a barely concealed smile as they journeyed back to their dorms, telling her what little she wanted to share of the moment. It seemed like something private though she did see it likely that it would happen again.


	13. More Than I Can Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ficlet drabble for **o0katiekins0o** who requested: _Molly and Sherlock are working together in the lab and they’re just so in sync with each other. And when it dawns on Sherlock how perfect they are together he gets awkward and cute._

**Originally posted on August 15, 2015**

* * *

 

Sherlock has been in the lab for an hour looking at a few specimens while Molly sits doing tests a few paces away from him. The tests Molly were running had strangely coincided with Sherlock’s own specimens. Well not strangely as they had agreed on a day to do this whole thing.

He had no case, Molly had finished all the autopsies and only had a few reports to finish and sign off on. It was all rather perfect. 

It wasn’t until they were well into their second hour, in another fifteen minutes Molly would need to take her break to eat that Sherlock turned to her and smiled. She paid him no mind. Molly had gotten to him occasionally sneaking glances at her. She hadn’t really tried to figure out why since the second time she caught him doing it but it was nice to have his attention.

He didn’t usually talk though. He’d only look at her for maybe fifteen seconds before turning back to whatever he was doing. This time however he stopped her as she was jotting down notations on the chemical reaction she had observed. 

Sherlock cleared his throat. “This is good.”

She hummed. “What do you mean?” She resumed writing up until she finished the thought she was on, only then did she turn to him. 

“Well,” He paused as if he expected her to just understand what he meant by it. “Us. This situation.”

Molly smiled carefully at him. What was she supposed to take that as? Them working together? Them elsewhere?

“I work well with you.” he clarified. 

“We do seem to get more done when there isn’t much around.” She continued. She wasn’t trying to be evasive but she still wasn’t sure of his ploy in starting this conversation. She turned back to her report and scribbled down another bit that had come to her as they spoke. 

Sherlock sighed, “Molly what I mean to say is that it’s perfect. This is only an extension of what…” 

Molly turned to him with a quirked eyebrow. “To save you from what you’re having the hardest time saying do you feel like accompanying me to lunch?”

Sherlock nodded. “Yes, that sounds good.”

Molly beamed. She left him there to grab something out of her office before they headed down for lunch. Sherlock brushed a hand over his face. “That went better than I thought it would.”

“Thought over that a lot did you?” Molly giggled as she came up beside him. 

He gave her a tight grin. “Your quiet footsteps are going to give someone a heart attack someday, Molly.”

“Hopefully it’s not yours. I was kidding by the way about the thinking.”

He held the door open for her. “I did though, think about it. More than I can say.”

“Oh?” Molly looked up at Sherlock as he followed beside her. 

He touched her shoulder softly. “We can not talk about it over lunch. I can only do so much awkward in one day.”

That had her laughing again. “It was good, Sherlock. “She mumbled giving him the last remark on the subject he had started in the lab. The resolution kept him smiling all the way through lunch where he indulged in a bag of crisps at the most. Molly bought him a bottle of water too. “You’ll need something to wash the salt down with.”


	14. Wedding Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **imaginationrulestheworld13** asked: #50 Writer's Preference + Sherlolly
> 
> Day came up with: [ _Molly escapes to the shore the morning after her wedding to Sherlock. A moment of reflection that he interrupts._ ]

**Originally posted on October 19, 2015**

* * *

 

Sherlock hated beaches. It was entirely the sand's fault. Molly was sure of that. He would blame it on something as menial as the grains that littered the ground. He was good at doing that. She just found it amusing, even though he was usually pouting when doing so. It made him look like such a child that sometimes she couldn’t berate him too much about it.

Her man-child who she had married. Some would probably say it was a mistake but to the pathologist in her 30s, it was the perfect mistake. They didn’t understand him as she did, they didn’t understand how he felt about her. At first, she hadn’t fully believed him. It was a foolish dream to want that, but Molly had always up to a point felt foolish when it came to Sherlock Holmes.

The change in their relationship to good friends had helped matters. Then there was the addition of another girl who adored Sherlock and Molly - Mary Watson - that soothed things into something a bit more than friends. She couldn’t fully put everything on Mary but she had helped a lot to give Sherlock the push he needed. 

Molly was content walking down to where the water rushed up against sand in a slush that smashed under her bare feet. Her smile grew a little bit as she thought over the ceremony that took place the day before in London in a small garden with Greg officiating the union. “A copper giving away two of the best, who would have thought?” She could hear the man saying again. Sherlock’s decision had really made Greg happy. 

Molly thought of the way everything went. Nothing bad had happened. Not really. There were a few surprise guests who weren’t invited but had found out about the ceremony. One namely a dominatrix who Molly hadn’t ever met officially. Molly had just smiled at her as if her slipping through her room’s window should have pissed her off, but it hadn’t done anything.

They had had a nice chat about how Sherlock had picked her. Irene had seemed subdued about her feelings towards Sherlock, but Molly had always been good at reading people. In all Irene had given her a friendly yet shocking ‘good luck’ smooch before Mary came in the door to check on her.

“ _Was someone just here?”_

 _“Oh, um, yes. She left via the window. She likes doing that so I hear.”_  Molly had stumbled through it, shocked. Quickly turning around to inspect her lips. Her own shade of lipstick hadn’t been smeared too much. Mary didn’t inquire any more about it but she did look like she wanted to ask.

Sherlock hadn’t told Irene to leave either. His demeanor towards her was fairly civil even though he kept a hold on Molly’s hand and waist whenever she came close to them. Molly rolled her eyes at him. They were married, she hoped another woman would understand that now. 

There wasn’t anything particularly extraordinary about the day apart from the vows. She had liked those. She had cried during hers, cried during his. He had written rather lengthy ones in comparison started off simply with, “I could never say everything on my heart but what follows I know is true: I love you…” Her eyes now glimmered with unshed tears as she bent down to let her fingertips swish in a quick flick of her wrist through the water. 

She didn’t get much further in reminiscing when she heard him behind her, running towards her. “Did you have to come here of all places?”

Molly turned with a laugh and looked at him. She irked her brows at his shirtless form. That she wasn’t expecting though she should have. She had left him bare. At least he had put on pants. 

“It’s nice. You agreed to the destination.”

“I did. Because I love you and want you to enjoy our break from other things.”

Molly grabbed at his waist and inched closer into his side. “Thank you. The sentiment is appreciated, dear.”

Sherlock hummed at the affectionate pet name. Getting used to that would have to start now. “Good, darling.” He patted her cheek slightly before dipping down to peck her lips. “Morning.” He continued once he resurfaced. “Mrs. Holmes.”

Molly laughed again, it was a happy kind of laughter that she knew wouldn’t die as long as she was with him. 


	15. First Date (Unilock Sherlolly)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **elliedilly** asked: 55. _“Our first date is a picnic on a beach under the stars? Have you swallowed a romance novel? Do I need to call a doctor?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I changed the locale because I had used a beach on another prompt apparently**

**Originally posted on October 19, 2015**

* * *

 

_Join me on the hill near the mathematics building. - SH_

_Please. - SH  
_

Molly was already in her pajamas by the time she had seen the texts from her keyboarded mobile. She hadn’t figured out if she was going to venture out just yet. She wanted to stay in bed. 

_please._

Another text came in. 

Why was he being so insistent about this? It was the only thing that made her put on some trainers, a pullover that was hanging on the back of the door and pocket her phone after typing a short message to let him know she would be there.

_it better be important, Holmes. xx Molly_

Another one came in but she couldn’t be bothered to see what he was saying now as she had been hit with the winter chill. Perhaps a scarf would have been a better addition to what she had on. Her striped pants weren’t that warm but it was what she wanted to wear to bed and she really didn’t feel like changing. 

He better not have me out here for more than an hour, Molly thought as she started to trudge up the hill. Getting to the mathematics building never took to long. Her dormitory was a few twenty feet from the science building which was fairly close. 

Sherlock’s was near the History one. She hadn’t ever been there except one time when he asked her to meet outside. He had a habit of doing that. She stopped walking when it hit her. 

Why did he do that? Why did she keep coming out to meet him? 

He asked. He didn’t ask things of her that often. He reserved that for his best friend John. It did make her wonder if John would be here too. Why should that matter?

She shook her head. 

One hour only she promised herself as she finished the last few feet where she was supposed to join him. “Finally.” His brisk tone didn’t do much for the other things she saw past him as he stood there in a beanie that was barely covering his curls, and a grey pullover that looked quite roomy if she let herself look long enough. Right now she couldn’t.

Molly was severely distracted by the blanket that was laid out with a basket and a bottle of wine - well no - the wine was in his hands. “What is this?” She finally said once he started to shift on his toes at her intense gaze - glare - at his fancy display.

“Thought we’d have a bit of a night out.”

“We have lectures in the morning.” She reminded him, staying rooted to the spot.

“So…” This was so him. Molly shook her head at him but didn’t move back to go return down the hill. She stepped closer to him.

“What is this?” She repeated again. “Surely you can’t be serious.” She paused seeing the small pout on his face. He was serious. “A date.” It donned on her. “Under the stars, Sherlock? What romantic trash have you been stuffing your nose in?” She really had a bit of fun with this.

She took the wine out of his hand. Inspecting it. “Are you alright?” She continued seeing the confusion on his face. “I’m just having a little fun with you, Holmes. You did bring wine. I want to drink a little. Perhaps it’ll warm me up.” She giggled.

She could see the relief wash over him and he took the wine back and pushed her carefully over to the blanket. “We can use the blanket too, you want.”

Molly nodded. Lest until the wine got her warmer.   
She watched Sherlock as he moves the basket off the blanket before gesturing for her to get down on the grass. He swarmed her in it before joining her, slipping under the confines of the blanket and shifting a little so he was shoulder to shoulder with her. 

He pulled out two glasses and topped off hers first before handing her a sandwich that he also pulled from the basket. “You’ve thought this through.”

“My other attempts weren’t working.” He huffed.

Molly balked at him, taking a sip of the beverage. “What?”

“The trip to the gardens, Christmas with my family, those were kind of hints. I thought so anyway.” 

“I thought you were just being nice with the Christmas invitation.”

“I don’t like Christmas. Why would I subject someone else to my families festivities?” He looked so disgusted by the notion as he took a large chunk out of his own sandwich half.

“Wait…why don’t you like Christmas?” Molly liked the holiday. It was the first year without her dad. Her mum had come along to the Holmeses. Molly hadn’t wanted her to be alone, and Sherlock’s mum was delighted to have another woman that she liked around. 

THOSE WERE HINTS.

Molly placed her face in her hand. “I’m an idiot.” She muttered mid-Sherlock’s explanation about niceties and such. 

‘You’re brilliant.” He told her, tsking all the way. His cheeks were red and Molly wasn’t sure if it was the chill, or the wine, or perhaps his confession that he thought her smart - brilliant - he had said.

“Thank you.” She added shyly. “So you did all this for me? I thought you didn’t like the stars though.” She tilted her head upwards to look at the shining sparks in the sky. She nearly jumped when he grabbed her hand. “You like them, though.”

Molly smiled. 

He really was sweet. He wasn’t usually this sweet. 

This was real. This was happening.

“You’re amazing.” She told him before swallowing the rest of her drink before turning allowing the blanket to shift a little. 

He looked like he usually did at the compliment. He got that one a lot but there was a tint of the smile that he sometimes gave her. She hadn’t realized how much it offered until this moment. “Oh sod it.” She didn’t kiss people usually. First dates weren’t an ideal time to do it. Not like this.

He had gone so far to make this happen.

 _Please._  

She just about climbed on him as she pulled him onto her mouth. This was incredibly clumsy but he held her in place as he relished the rewards of his dedication to expressing how he felt. It might have been a slapdash effort but this was good. This was more than he had been expecting. He liked it. He liked her. He liked the kissing.

It was brilliant. It was so so thrilling. 

He did manage to get a word in. “Oh.” 

Molly backed up an inch as to give him so room to make sure she hadn’t completely fucked up here. She had jumped him. Jumped Sherlock Holmes. This was talked about sure, but this was not done. 

Margaret Hooper had done so, though. No one would believe her. 

“This is…” She started, Sherlock intercepted. “Thank you.” 

She grew a bit confused but he continued. “For coming, and this.” He gestured between the two of them. “It’s something…more.” 

Molly’s crinkled her nose still not sure what that meant but when he inched closer to her again. She understood. He wanted to kiss her again. That more meant that exclusively.

She giggled as she circled her arms around his shoulder and pecked him. “I would love more but we got stuff going on tomorrow.” 

“So…” There it was again. Molly rolled her eyes. “Skip it.”

“You’re serious.” Her tone was soft.

He made a noise as if to affirm that notion. 

Molly took a moment to inspect this. She would probably regret it. She would. She knew it, but the moment was here. Now. 

“Let me teach you about the stars then.” She climbed off of him slowly.

His annoyed tone was back as he joined her, lying back on the grass and looking up at the sky. “Not what I meant, Hooper.”

“Tough.” She was smiling again.


	16. Drunken Sherlock and Molly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Molly getting drunk together. - anonymous/K
> 
> [One of several not prompts that I ended up writing things for lmao]

**Originally posted on April 2, 2016**

* * *

 

Sherlock found drunk Molly to be quite revealing. Apart from the scoop neck tank she had chosen to wear in her own home, she was in soft shorts that had flowers on them. They were currently drinking a bottle of wine - well Molly was, Sherlock had something he thought was more to his taste (brandy) - and spilling secrets that neither of them would probably remember tomorrow.

So far Sherlock had told her about his summer with Victor, and the mess he made at his parent’s thirty-fifth anniversary dinner with a councilwoman’s daughter who had been hiding her coke addiction. Molly had spoken about her dad at length and why she wasn’t talking to her mother. And now they were at the point where Sherlock wanted to dig a little deeper. “What is it exactly that she doesn’t approve of? You’re one of the most innocent people in my life.”

She had broken the law for him, but other than that she had done nothing wrong. Mycroft had shown him her file. 

Molly tossed back the rest of her glass before moving to refill it. She waited until she had poured to answer his question. She looked over at him from her right side where he was sprawled, glass in between them but left untouched. A small barrier shielding them from what. Neither of them had tried anything so far. Just stories and booze. 

He was looking at her with a curious eye. Maybe this was the one thing about her that he couldn’t forget out.  “You.” She told him before looking away. She could hear him moving. Perhaps he was sitting up.

“What about me?”

“You’re not stupid, Sherlock. I believe the last time we danced around it you said ‘not all the men you fall for turn out to be sociopaths‘. As long as I stand by you, and help you she doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“And you’re okay with that?” He had scooted so that he was directly in front of her. Eyes drooping but alert enough to focus on what they were talking about. 

“Yes. No. It’s complicated.”

“It’s not.” He said reaching out for her hand. “Let’s take a trip tomorrow.” 

Molly sat up straighter pull her hand into her lap. “What?”

“You need to talk to your mum.” He said simply as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do. It was especially weird seeing as she knew he barely spoke to his parents let alone his mother. 

“What would I say? Hi mum, I’m still at the hospital and working with the man who you don’t want me around?”

Sherlock nodded. “Exactly.”

“But it wouldn’t be the truth. I can’t lie about that.”

“Sure you can, Molly. Because it isn’t a lie.” He gave her a soft smile. 

She immediately started shaking her head. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m gonna leave you.”

“If it’ll fix your relationship with your mother.” He paused as he once again took her hands (both of them) and gave them a reassuring squeeze. “If I can repay you with this one thing I will do it. You’ve turned this drug addict into something better than that. Yes, I need the work but I’ll find a way to survive without you.”

“No.” She said getting on her knees and pulling her hands back so that she could pull at the collar of his shirt. She pulled him closer so that they were face to face. “You can’t have a conscience after all this time.”

“More like a drunken oath but my feelings are genuine. Mummy would be proud of me.” He grinned with a sheen in his eyes that was partly from the thing that he was trying to do for Molly and also because the idea of his mother being happy about something filled him with mirth when he thought of his brother. 

“I can’t do that.”

“It’ll be easy, Molly. I’ll even go inside with you.”

Molly made a sound that sounded something like a growl, alerting the detective. He inched back just an inch or two but Molly was on him in a second. Pulling him towards her with unshed tears. “You don’t get it. You really are impossible.” She whimpered. 

It occurred to him that maybe Molly didn’t want to be without him. He felt very much the same but he had been trying to be selfless for once. “Molly..” He whispered, moving his hands into her hair. 

If he had remembered this night at all he would have done this after leaving the Hooper residence but this seemed like the more appropriate time to do it. He pressed his mouth to hers softly. He felt her sob and swallowed it whole as he kissed her. HIs hands tugging at her wavy tresses. 

She pulled away before he could go any further. “Why did you do that?”

Sherlock licked his lips. “It kills me to hurt you. I wanted to give you something worth smiling about.” 

“Then don’t make me do this. My father understood. She has never understood me.”

“Are you afraid of her?” The thought made him sick. 

“Not at all. I just don’t want to go through it again. Ever since you came back it’s been particularly messy.”

“Then we’ll go to my parents.” He switches the plan.

“You sure you’ll remember this in the morning. You taste like you’ve had almost the whole bottle of that stuff.” Molly giggled at him.

“I don’t forget you, Molly Hooper.” He said touching her cheek carefully.

“Your mum did invite me to brunch so..”

“WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN? WHEN DID YOU EVER MEET?” He huffed.

“She reads John’s blog and contacted me.” She mumbled sheepishly. 

Sherlock took a deep breath. He couldn’t even stay mad at her. “I liked kissing you. Can I do that again?”

Molly bit her bottom lip. The last thing she remembered was the ‘oh hell’ that left Sherlock’s mouth before they fell back. He had taken her down with him. 

Mrs. Holmes was very happy to see the reasonably more sober son and the lovely auburn-haired doctor who he had brought along with him. “About time.” She whispered.

Sherlock looked aghast but Molly couldn’t even put it past her. She had been hinting about it not that Molly shared that with Sherlock. They had been too busy snogging among other things. 


	17. Starry Eyed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **anonymous** asked: _Sherlolly: Molly and Sherlock cuddling underneath the stars and Sherlock asks her an important question. <3_

**Originally posted on April 27, 2016**

* * *

 

 

 _Lyin’ here with you so close to me_  
It’s hard to fight these feelings  
When it feels so hard to breathe  
Caught up in this moment  
Caught up in your smile

_\- Just A Kiss, by Lady Antebellum_

* * *

He had asked her to not question why they needed to be on a hill in a crowded park for a meteor shower. She had several questions but decided to trust him on this one thing because he looked rather serious about it. 

Sherlock Holmes being serious about a meteor shower was a funny thought. Molly held onto his arm tightly as they weaved through the throngs of people so that they could find a spot to settle. 

There was one towards the center. If Molly was going to question it, she would have probably wanted to ask why there was a man standing next to picnic basket as if he was guarding it. “No questions, Molly.” He reminded her when she gave him a suspicious glance. 

“Yeah. Alright. You’re being very weird…much more than usual.” She told him as she let go of him so he could set out their blanket. He gestured for her to sit down first before he joined her. She complied with some hesitancy. He spoke quietly to the man before the suited man walked away. 

“I thought my weirdness was a quality you enjoyed.” He mumbled returning to their previous conversation. 

“I do. Doesn’t mean I can’t question your motives anymore. You are  _you_.” She told him before accepting a glass of champagne as he took out the bread and chess that was tucked into the basket. 

“And you are you, Molly Hooper which is why we’re here in the first place.” He told her as he settled at her side. 

“So you haven’t suddenly changed your mind about the unknown galaxies in space?” She teased him. 

“Not quite, no. Thought you might enjoy it.” He smiled at her. They clinked glasses. 

While waiting for the shower to start he asked her to tell him about her day. Start to finish. He liked to hear about it at odd times. It was a distraction tactic that Molly knew too well but she was having a go with it tonight so she told him all about it. There wasn’t anything specifically interesting about it apart from a young genius coming into the morgue wanting to learn all he could in a span of fifteen minutes. Apparently, his parents wouldn’t give him any more time than that. 

“Did you show him anything special?”

“I was doing an autopsy at the time.“ She said slowly as if that was enough of an answer, but she elaborated when he gave her the ‘come on molly’. “I had a heart in my hand when he had slipped through. He saw that first. Then I explained the rest of what I was doing once he gave his name.”

“Oh?”

“He’s related to one of the board members.” She waved it off as if that was nothing. 

It was after this that there was a sudden influx of people standing and cheering loudly. The sky was bright with shining stars, and a few bright bursts of colors as the meteors began their show. This took Molly’s attention away from Sherlock. 

He grinned watching her for a few seconds before taking out the box he had hid underneath the blanket. “I have a question.” He told her simply. 

“Yeah?” She asked as she continued to look at the brightness of the stars. 

He chuckled. He’d just ask her. She’d turn towards him when he did. It had been two years since the last time he had tried to ask her. She said he wasn’t sure of what he wanted. He knew exactly what he was doing this time around. 

“Will you be my wife?”

Molly’s head jerked down to look at him. Her mouth was slightly open in surprise. “What?” She whispered as she noticed the ring that was in his possession. He reached out for her hand. “This again…Sherlock.”

“It’s different this time. This is a good time in our lives and I’m not high. I don’t have anyone trying to kill you, or me or our friends. This is about us and what I want. What I’ve always wanted. I want you.” He reached out and cupped her cheek. “I’ve always known I’d get here someday. Today - tonight is that day.”

He watched her bite her lip as if she wanted to believe him. “How do you know for sure?”

“I wouldn’t be here under the stars with you if I didn’t mean it. We both know I don’t care about any of this. But I care about you. I want you with me, always.” He told her hurriedly as if this moment was fleeting and it would go away. “Please do me the honor of having you as my wife, Margaret Hooper.” 

Molly sniffed as she watched this man plead with her for her hand in marriage. They had been through so much together and yet he was so insistent as ever. She wanted this just as badly as he did. And yet she was hesitating. There was so much at stake here. There was so much that could happen if she said yes, and yet she found herself nodding and whispering a quiet, “Okay.” 

“Yeah?” He asked as he moved his hand from her face to take the ring out of the box. 

Molly nodded enthusiastically and pulled him down to a kiss with people cheering around him the moment he had slipped it on her hand. “I love you.” She mumbled


	18. Daydreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **anonymous** asked: _Sherlock and Molly-'dreaming' for the one word prompt thingy_
> 
> [I have this one tagged as s4 so I'm assuming it was related in some way?]

**Originally posted on May 24, 2016**

* * *

 

He caught himself sometimes when he was in a meeting with his brother thinking of other things. Other people who he had been told were safe. How safe? Was there really such a thing. He wasn’t sure.

However, he thought of her smile and the fierce actions she had taken against him when everyone was watching. Surprising everyone but him. The woman who would push him until it clicked inside his head. He could be so much better.

“Sherlock, are you listening?” Mycroft sighed looking at that half-aware expression on his brother’s face. 

“Yes.” He sounded distracted and though he knew that he tried to return to the subject at hand. 

Mycroft let out a sigh before signally for Anthea to pull up the live feed of Barts. “She’s capable of staying out of trouble, brother.” 

“I know that,” Sherlock told him simply as he looked at the figure of Molly Hooper sitting at one of the tables writing up a  report. Her fingers were tapping out a rhythm on the countertop. He couldn’t figure out if it was anything in particular. He turned back to his brother.

“Then what are you thinking about?”

“Sunshine, I suppose.” He joked. 

Anthea kept a smile small on her face, knowing what he was referring to but she chose not to tell Mycroft about it. She took the tablet off the table and pulled up a message thread and began typing. 

_Have you ever been described as a sun? - A_

Sherlock bickered with his brother while Anthea watched Miss Hooper pull her phone from her pocket. Her brows furrowed before she looked up at the camera and rolled her eyes. There was a smile there too, in case he was watching. There was a chance that he wasn’t considering she knew that the PA was usually the one behind the messages she got.

A beep from the tablet soon signaling a new message. She smiled at what she got back.

**Not to my face.**

 

 _New codename. Mycroft is clueless. - A_  


She could see the girl laugh, and shake her head.


	19. Stubborn Myc (MYTHEA!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **mizjoely** asked: _One word prompt: Helicopter (Mythea)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a smidge of Sherlolly here as well :3

**Originally posted on May 24, 2016**

* * *

 

The one thing that annoyed her about her boss was that he tried so hard to downplay when he desperately needed assistance. Like now, when he had been shot (twice) and needed someone to come get him, and two get him some quick medical attention. The thing that Anthea was good at was multitasking. 

She sent a car for Molly Hooper who just happened to be at Sherlock’s when she needed someone who would be discreet. Watson hadn’t been available due to parenting duties. She had operated with the pathologist before. 

“It’s your brother.” She could hear Molly saying as she brought a case with her into the helicopter.

“As much as that is true. I don’t like when they whisk you out during dinner.”

“We had pizza, Sherlock.” Molly returned as she gave Anthea a smile. “Hi, sorry I couldn’t shake him off once he heard that his brother was involved.”

Anthea gave Sherlock a curious look. It wasn’t often that his brother was open about his concern but it was there. Steady. She gave him a brief nod as they took off. “We might need you to hold him down. I take it you don’t have any anesthetic in that bag of yours?”

Molly shook her head. “I don’t exactly carry that around.”

“You should,” Sherlock commented. Molly ignored that.

“What happened to him?” Molly asked quietly. She could tell that this whole situation was bothering the usually kept together PA. When your friends (or lovers) were harmed it wasn’t too hard to think it affected you too. 

“Bad information and a lot of gun power.” 

They were all silent until they arrived. Sherlock was the first one out of the aircraft. He practically propelled Molly forward when he saw the state of his brother. The others involved in this must have taken off once they had assumed they had handled the threat. 

“What are you doing here?” Mycroft sounded irritated despite the fact that he was bleeding out. It was from the bullets and the fact that he hadn’t been prepared to see his younger brother. 

Sherlock said nothing as he squatted next to Mycroft. Anthea stood next to Molly who immediately got to work. She didn’t often do this but she had learned a few more things since the last man she had to patch up.

Anthea looked at Mycroft quietly. She was sure he could read all her emotions rather easily. The apologetic look he gave her was enough for now. Once they had him somewhere safe, she’d actually talk to him about how bad this was. She hadn’t wanted him to go alone in the first place. He never listened when he really should. 

-

Mycroft had one arm in a sling by the next morning. They had managed to get him to Anthea’s place. He had argued of course, but it was the safest place considering someone would find out he hadn’t actually died. Sherlock had promised to take care of the rest. 

“For Mummy’s sake.” Was his only reason for why. Everyone knew that was a lie. Sherlock loved his brother. 

When Anthea was left with him pouting like an insolent child, she gave him a very hard stare. “You could have died and I wasn’t there to back you up.”

“You made sure I didn’t die.” He paused, swallowing as if what he was about to say was a little hard for him. Sentiment wasn’t his strong suit. “I am grateful.”

That had her at least lessened her glare at him. “Good. You should be.”

Mycroft knew he had royally pissed her off and that it was going to take some time to fix it. He would fix it. He needed her too much. More than he could say.


	20. For the love of Disney (Married! Sherlolly)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **sinnerwoman86** asked: _One word prompt: slipper (Sherlolly)_

**Originally posted on May 24, 2016**

* * *

 

Sherlock loved his wife dearly. She was the piece to the puzzle. However, let it be known that there were small moments where he wasn’t the only one who lost it. People call him mad. Molly had a streak of it when she couldn’t find something in their shared space. 

Currently, it was early morning and she desperately wanted her pink slippers. She had one which was found under the bed. She had hopped off the bed leaving Sherlock less warm and headed onto the floor on her belly. She didn’t see the other one there.

“How could one be there and not the other?” She huffed as she rose to her feet. One slipper in hand and began to look through the room. 

Sherlock chuckled. “Dear, is it really that important?”

“Yes.” She replied simply without looking his way. She was on a mission. 

He let out a sigh knowing that he was going to have to help her or at the very least have her sit while he did the searching. She could tear up a room looking for it.

He tumbled out of bed thinking briefly about nabbing his dress gown but let if it where it was hanging and slipped over to where she was lifting boxes from near the bookshelf. He made a grab for her wrist and pulled her up. 

Molly briefly grew distracted by his shirtless form before looking at his face. “What? I’m trying to find it.” 

“I’m aware. Go make sure tea. I’ll see if I have better luck.” He watched her eyes roam over his face for an answer to a question she hadn’t yet posed. She nodded. “Okay.” 

He bent down and pecked her forehead. She left him with a small smile on her face. 

Sherlock took in a deep breath and tried to remember the last time he saw the sacred slipper. She didn’t wear them yesterday. Then again she hadn’t been as cold as she was this morning. So he calmly walked around the house to search for it. 

He found of course with the cat. Toby loved taking things that he shouldn’t. He was like a dog that way. Except for the wrong species. 

Sherlock sighed as he wrestled with the cat to get it back. When he finally did he glared at the tabby. “You know, sometimes I can’t stand you.”

“But he loves you.” Molly giggled as she tried to take the slipper from Sherlock. He held it over his head. 

“Sit.” He grinned mischievously. 

“What?” Molly frowned.

“Sit down. I’m trying to be romantic.” He quipped.

Molly shook her head at him but moved back to one of the chairs in the sitting room. She sat down. Her one cold foot was soon covered by her newly found shoe. It maybe has a few claw marks on it but at least it was there once again. 

“My prince of a husband. Thank you.” Molly grinned. 

He rose slightly so he could kiss her fully on the mouth. “You’re welcome, Princess.” He paused a moment. “Don’t ever share this story with anyone.”

“Why not?” She laughed.

“Pet names aren’t attractive.” He mumbled.

“Are you saying you don’t think of me like a Princess, Sherlock?”

“No.” He said seriously. “You’re my  _ **queen**_.” 

Molly decided that deserved a trip to the bedroom. No clothes were actually needed for that. 


	21. Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **whclocked** asked: _"My life suddenly was separated by moments before I met him and those that came after I know him" -- Any chance you can make it fluffy? I kinda need that today (Sherlolly) ___

**Originally posted on May 30, 2016**

* * *

 

Molly had never realized how utterly droll had life had been before Sherlock Holmes came crashing into her life with his curls and the nice coat. She did everything she always did. It was a simple life and she hadn’t minded it one bit.

Fast forward to 2014 and she had been keeping his secret, lying to her (his) friends and had gotten engaged (not to him). It was safe to say that things had gotten rocky for her. Yet, she hadn’t regretted a single moment of it. 

Sure, he was brash and all-consuming and had stomped on her heart enough for her to need to give him up but she had unconsciously made a choice all those years ago when he first stepped through the double doors of the morgue. She wanted to be in his world and she had somehow made true on that promise. 

She hadn’t ever thought she was that important to him. He was something else entirely to her - even when he was gone - but that wasn’t the point. 

Now, she was sitting in a room four years after holding those secrets and she was cradling a child. Not hers, but the sentiment of being in this room with the people who still wanted her around despite all the lies she told. ‘It wasn’t your fault. He’s always had this pull on you.’ 

She hadn’t had to agree with that. It was  _known_. 

The man himself is sitting on the arm of the chair that she’s sitting on and he looks utterly happy. A bit disheveled having rushed right after stopping to grab her from her house quite early in the morning. She had punched him in the shoulder for scaring her when she was just waking up. He had been practically hovering over her sleeping face. ‘For fucks sakes, Sherlock Holmes.’

He had just grinned at her as if he found this whole situation funny. After she had managed to get some proper clothes on and snag a piece of toast that he had put in her toaster while she was in her washroom. 

“Sometimes I regret giving you a key.”

“Ah, but Molly don’t you remember I made this one myself.” He retorted. She just rolled her eyes.

“Blame it on my lack of caffeine that I forgot something. We’re not all like you.” He was shuffling from side to side in anticipation. She couldn’t help but smile a little at his excitement. He only got this excited about cases but this was a new adventure in some way. Being involved with children that is. 

If she was honest she didn’t know how he felt about them. On the odd occasion that he spoke to one about a case, he had been very Sherlock about it. There was the one little boy from the Watson wedding, however.  _Archie_. Sherlock had seemed happy to talk to the young lad. 

Perhaps it was all a part of his evolution as a person. She had certainly witnessed it over many others. 

He pushed her out the door. “I’ll get you a cuppa on the way there. I know what you like.”

Molly slipped her arm through his. She knew that he did. He leaned a bit closer to her as they hit the pavement and began on their way. 

They had been getting to know each other for years. It was only now that he seemed comfortable with this. It made something tug inside her.

She missed the way he looked at her as they waited to cross the road to get to the cafe. She was tugging something inside of him too. It had been slowly coming out but timing. Timing had always been his worst friend. 

It was time to see where it would go. He may have talked to his mother about her. There wasn’t much backing down on it now, was it?


	22. Bugging (Kidlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **mizjoely** asked: _🐜 - freaking cause there’s a bug pls deal with it I'm not touching it (For Sherlolly please?)_

**Originally posted on August 6, 2017**

* * *

 

Sherlock Holmes, of course, had his own pet tarantula. This shouldn’t have been too surprising considering he liked to collect really scary things compared to all the other boys she had grown up with.

However, this was the first time young Molly Hooper had ever come across one of this size. He had just been showing off Billy as he kept affectionately calling it to everyone. Some girls would shrink away, Sally Donovan found that amusing but made no moves to interact with Billy and the young Holmes himself. She had often called him a freak.

Molly had been too preoccupied with her small tabby who wanted to look at everything to pay much attention beyond the great spectacle of him introducing the spider to everyone when he had come in that morning. When recess rolled around Molly had opted to sitting under the shaded tree since it was a bit too hot for Toby - her cat - and she didn’t really feel up to playing today.

It wasn’t until Toby started to climb her that she had any idea that something was wrong.

As Greg soon pointed out as he and Sally were making their rounds the small circle if the sandbox that was nearby that Billy had taken a liken to her.

Molly couldn’t move. Partially because she didn’t know where it was, and the other part of her was terrified. Why did the arachnid choose her of all people? And how did Sherlock not known it had suddenly disappeared?

She closed her eyes a tick, reaching carefully to grab Toby before he could get himself harmed by trying to defend her. He wasn’t that large. The spider was much more menacing to her or her cat.

She drew in a deep breath before yelling as loudly as she could. “SHERLOCK GET YOUR SPIDER OFF ME BEFORE TOBY EATS IT.”

Sherlock who was across the yard seemed to realize at that moment that he was without his prized pet. He quickly left his friend John and rushed over to her. “Hooper was it?” He squatted down so that they were eye to eye. He was a few inches taller than her. Always had been.

“Molly.” She said distractedly. “Where is it? It doesn’t feel like it’s moving?”

“He’s not. Your hair looks like a nest.”

“Sherlock.” Someone grumbled from behind him.

“Oh. I didn’t. Mean it.” He gritted his teeth. “It’s just very wild today.”

Molly frowned. “Mum was busy this morning. Dad isn’t good at this. He tries.”

Sherlock reached up while she was talking and reached out for Billy who slowly as ever climbed onto his hand. “Would you like my brush?”

He stood up once more.

“Don’t worry about it.” Molly sighed as she began combing her hands through the ribbon that was in place. It did feel poofy.

_Oh, Dad._

“I’m supposed to help people after I harm them.” He shrugged.

“I didn’t die, Sherlock.”

He turned back to her with a half smile. “Thankfully not. I’m supposed to ask your mum if she wanted to bring you over for dinner.”

Molly tried not to blush. It was hard.

He kept staring at her. “I’ll lend you my brush.”

He walked away after that.

Perhaps she could get along with Billy if Sherlock Holmes was being nice to her. Besides, the tarantula hadn’t bothered her once. She just hadn’t expected to have it on her.

It was alright.


	23. Molly the Assassin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **autumn-grace** asked: _Okay. I needed a moment to think this through. This is a prompted for the Assassin AU No.7 "'All my intel said you’re not meant to be back until next week and I’m sitting here using your flat as a sniper nest to kill a bad guy. This is awkward.’ Sherlock comes home after a case. It had been far too fucking obvious who the murderer was and they had him booked into the hotel for a week. A week! Opening his front door he knew there was something wrong. When he found a woman sleeping on his couch and his TV running Pride and Prejudice he was sure. And not to mention the arsenal of weapons on his carpet…._ Sherlolly

**Originally posted on August 26, 2017**

* * *

 

Sherlock Holmes knew something was wrong the minute he stepped through the doors of his home on Baker Street. The dim lighting was one thing, he excepted to have nothing on considering he hadn’t been there in a complete week and Mrs. Hudson had a habit of coming to clean up after him. The other evidence of this was the sound of a film he knew he didn’t own playing on his television. Thirdly, there was a woman curled up on his couch. 

He took a second to look around at what she had left out, on the window on the other side of the room was a fully customized rifle with a scope.  _Assassin?_

He turned back to her and noticed the back plainly in view just to the left of his coffee table. There was something poking out of it. 

She was an intruder in his home, he wanted to know what she was actually up to. A normal person would have probably asked the perp themselves but Sherlock Holmes was not just anyone. 

As he moved toward the bag to grab the item sticking out of it the sound of the only creaking floorboard in the room nearly made him curse for the woman sat up quickly and reached for something that was under the blanket she had welcomed herself to.

Her brown eyes never left his own, “You’re home early.”

“You were expecting me?” He said straightening up from his position next to her. His eyes followed the hand she was pulling out from under the blanket. It held a military grade knife. He waited for her to make the first move but she didn’t. Instead, she in-dented it in the table and stood up. 

She wore jeans, no shoes, and the hoodie she was still wearing. Her hair in the dim lighting looked darker than he thought it was. “No. You were supposed to be gone on that case longer. I forgot you’re a smartass.”

He chuckled. She wasn’t the first one to call him that. She was the first one to not throw a punch at him first. He was technically preventing her from doing a job. 

“Thanks.” He paused, sizing her up she was rather tiny for this line of work. “Who are you after?”

She blinked at him not expecting him to dig for information although he did look to be trying to grab her bag full of other weapons so perhaps she should have expected something. “No one in your way.” She sighed. 

What was she supposed to do now? 

“Humor me, Miss?” He gestured for her to come hither. She rolled her eyes at him but offered a hand. He reached for it. “You can call me Molly.”

“Last names aren’t necessary I suppose in your line of work.”

“How would you know if I gave you the right first name?”

“I have resources.” He squeezed her hand. She felt his hand move up her wrist but she ignored it. 

“Would you mind if I used some of these resources to finish my job?” She gestured to the window. “I can stay over there.”

Whatever the detective was fishing for he seemed to be satisfied and let her go. “No.” He paused, “You can take the couch. I have some details to finish off on this case so I’ll be up and about.”

He turned to walk away.

“Are you going to call the Yard on me?” 

Sherlock smiled as he kept walking. “Not yet. You’ve piqued my curiosity, Molly.”

Molly stared at his back as he retreated. He was strange. 

She moved over to the window even still and bent down to look through the scope. No movement yet. She needed to get this over with so that she could leave. It wasn’t a comfort to have the resident of the vantage point she had snuck into to suddenly come back and welcome her. 

It was weird. She liked working alone. 

It took a day and half before she could get the job done and Sherlock at best didn’t bother her. He asked questions clearly trying to find out who she was sent to kill but she gave him short answers. 

When she got ready to go he was there. He looked amused about something. “What?”

He shrugged. “You’re good at your job.”

“Thank you?”

“I just got a text from the DI at Scotland Yard asking if I knew anything about the murder that took place. Thought I should know. You curved the bullet so that it wouldn’t point to my window.”

She gripped her bag tighter. “So?”

“Feel free to use my window at any time.”

“Why would I do that? The job's done.” 

He was really bad at this. “Never mind.”

She looked at him. He was so weird. 

She didn’t mind. 

Weird. 

“I tried to put everything back where you left it. You’re an odd man, Holmes.”

“You’re a peculiar sniper, Miss Hooper.” He grinned at her.

She let out a sigh. 

He had found out who she was. She didn’t want to know how. 

“I’m gonna go.” She edged towards the door again. 

“Offer still stands, Molly. You looked comfortable on the couch.”

She chanced a glance back at him, “It’s a good couch.”

He chuckled as she headed down the steps. He had a feeling this wasn’t the last he was going to see of her. In or outside of his house. 

He didn’t mind. 

* * *

 


	24. Snowball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **thelockpickingvictorian** asked #11 _"Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!”_ Sherlolly xx
> 
> ft. Little Archie from tSoT

**Originally posted on March 1, 2015**

* * *

 

The snow was just about drenching Molly’s trousers yet she gave pause to stop in the park where there was a group of teenagers having fun in it. Sherlock sighed but stayed close by watching Molly with a tiny smile on his face.

He liked when she stopped to notice tiny things like this. It wasn’t like they had anything better to do today.

Not until he felt someone cold and wet hit him in the face. He blinked looking at Molly who was laughing.

“Wasn’t me.” She said in between her laughter.

“Mr. Holmes don’t just stand there.” The small figure of an even younger companion came into his line of sight. When had he got there? Was his mother around?

Archie balled another pack of snow in his gloved hands and smiled. “Miss.” He called at Molly, with a tiny nod.

“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!” Sherlock got hit again but dove when another came at him from the woman who was supposed to be on his side.

“Is this how it is?” He called.

Molly was already bending over albeit with a thread of difficulty as she was starting to sink in the snow. “Have some fun, Sherlock.” She told him as Archie moved closer to her to assist.

Sherlock grumbled before gathering the white ice into his hands. “If you insist but I’m warning you…”

Plow!

Not wanting to waste another moment he quickly began tossing it in their direction. The squeals of laughter were enough to offset his annoyance and get into battle mode.

She did tell him to have fun.


	25. Massage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Anonymous** asked: #4 _“Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?"_ Sherlolly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a fic rec that I mentioned when posting this originally was Lono's [A Hands On Approach](https://archiveofourown.org/works/653952) \- still a fave so please go read it if you haven't

**Originally posted on March 1, 2015**

* * *

 

Most days off were supposed to be used to relax but Molly just couldn’t. Maybe it was the few too many late nights hunched over a cadaver or writing up reports in her office. Either way, she couldn’t get comfortable enough to sleep or do much relaxing.

Her shoulders ached badly. Plus there was a crick in her neck too.

She had been trying to silently deal with the matter but the occasional groan of annoyance would slip from her tongue and she couldn't bloody well help it.

Enter Sherlock who was over doing something she probably wouldn’t approve of when it came to her cat. “Do you need help with that? You’re awfully loud.”

The look of pure loathing on his face stopped as soon as she turned to look at him. She was in pain and her face showed it with the little movement.

“What could you do?”

“I dunno.” He fumble. “Perhaps…I could give you a massage?” His face was as blank as ever as he said it but she saw the color in his cheeks. He had to have thought about it beforehand or he wouldn’t have asked.

Molly swiftly got off the couch. “Alright. Bedroom.”

There were groans of utter delight coming from the hall as Sherlock did his best to help.

Toby stayed clear of the two a bit terrified as to what could be going on in there.


	26. Close Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **fangirlwithyournumber** asked: #25 _“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”_ Teenlock Sherlolly

 

**Originally posted on March 1, 2015**

* * *

 

She had asked him a simple question. Exams were over and they needed a simple break to take a breather. How did asking her sort of friend and chemistry partner get Molly Hooper hiding behind a few pillars oil drums listening to five blokes try to rationalize why the cops were waiting outside.

“I don’t see why you couldn’t have called that nice copper fellow who helped with the murder in the garden last semester to deal with this. Look what you’ve got us into. I can’t believe I actually let you talk me into going for a cuppa in the next district and yet here we are.”

Sherlock for his part was splicing his time between what Molly was saying and what the idiots were plotting. Neither of them sounding the least bit bright.

Except for Molly who he had heard this same speech from just a few weeks ago.

“Molly.” He leaned over her turning his attention back to the irritated girl.

“What?”

“We are going to get our cuppa once the coast is clear.”

“You do realize they are here because we - the two teens who didn’t arrive back before curfew were seen in this warehouse, right?”

Sherlock grinned down at her. She was smart, he liked that about her. “Obviously, but they don’t know that.”

“Sure?” She whispered when she heard something from behind him.

“Of course…I’m.” He didn’t get the other part out for he was taken from behind. Molly dodged the other man who tried to make a grab at her by yanking on the jumper that had the emblem of their charter school on the pocket. She kicked at his shin before yelping rather loudly when she saw the knife in his hands.

Sherlock never liking when she was in danger despite his constant plans to accidentally get her in these situations, twisted away from the man who was all but on him and punched him the throat before taking the other by surprise.

“Run.” He told her.

“I can’t…”

“What was one of the first things I told you?” He managed before getting hit in the nose. The gush of the blood caused Molly to stop in her confliction.

Rule #1 Never hit any one of Molly’s friends while she’s in their presence.

She lunged her petite form at the man and used her shoulder to get him to drop the knife.

Sherlock wiped his nose and just as he was about to grab Molly and make a run for it all hell broke loose.

Bright lights and even louder voices broke through the barricaded door.

“You kids alright?” The copper from the last time stated. “What the hell happened to your nose, Holmes?”

He was frowning but took the scarf that Molly offered from her own shoulders to cover it up. “Head back.” She instructed.

He shrugged at the officer. “I wasn’t paying attention.” His eyes shifted down to Molly even when she was standing in front of him at the back of an ambulance.

He was grateful that she was safe.


	27. Fainting Spells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **mizjoely** asked #38 _“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”_ Sherlolly

**Originally posted on March 1, 2015**

* * *

She understood that hazard was on the list of things that he fully got as a man of science but at the same time, he didn’t exactly follow all the rules. She was fully aware of that.

It didn’t mean he shouldn’t follow some safety precautions, if not for himself then for her. She wasn’t of the opinion that she liked not breathing while he slumped against her basically knocking her off the stool.

Fumes.

That’s what did it.

She tried every way to get from under him but that didn’t exactly happen. He was easily taller than her and that added to his weight.

It took him a good fifteen minutes to come to. When he did she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “You fainted on me, I mean you could have said my name if you wanted my attention so badly Sherlock.”

He rolled off her, groaning as he ruffled his clothes. “Sorry, my focus was elsewhere. Are you okay?”

Molly chuckled shortly. “I should be asking you that. I’m not the one who passed out.” She moved closer to him and touched his shoulder cautiously.

“I’m fine.” He wouldn’t look at her though. This elicited her to move around him and push his chin up so that he was paying her attention.

“It was a joke. Fall into me anytime you like. That’s what I’m here for, right?” He took her hand away but held it in his lap. He liked the feel of her hands.

“Among equally pleasant things.” She saw his smile.

It was her time to blush.


	28. The Doctor Always Has A Companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **theconsultingkingslayer** asked: _doctor/companion au_

**Originally posted on May 8, 2015**

* * *

 

There were a few things Sherlock Holmes, detective, and chemist found intriguing when he first rushed into the graces of Doctor Molly Hooper’s life. She had the affliction for finding strange death occurrences and two that she was stronger than she appeared. 

There were other things of course but as he was ‘sent to protect her from a greater evil’ - his big brother’s words not his he seemed to still find it awe-inspiring. There were very few times when anyone produced that kind of feeling from him but this tiny woman with a doctorate degree in a few things had done just that. 

Forget the fact that they had nearly been shot for her doing her damn job and him just tagging along because he found it interesting around thirty times since meeting in 2009. 

She had decided to ask him why one night when she was trying to procure a piece of fluid from the body of a man named Thomas who he noticed right away she had been involved with once. Keeping tabs on her social life was something he loathed but needed to do as protecting this woman was supposed to be his first priority. 

How he had come to delegating his life in between his detective work and spending the extra hours escaping dangerous situations for a dead body wasn’t too sketchy to him. He had probably been way worse over his head a few years back if he hadn’t found his  _purpose_. 

Mycroft really had a way of making things that were supposed to sound good incredibly annoying not to mention foreboding.

“Why do you stay with me? I don’t think I do anything for you.” She was always so quiet even when there was a gun in  his hands and he was shooting to deflect shots at her person while she did what she needed to do so that they could return either to 221b where she had accumulated a small space of his flat if it was a particularly difficult night and she was too tired to go home or to the lab where she finished work for the day and slept in her office. 

“You decided to ask me that now? When I’m doing the other job.” He yelled as he maneuvered a quick shot off the cylinder that was closest to the door. The Clansmen thought they were being clever trying to get out while simultaneously trying to kill him. Kill Molly really.

“We haven’t been in the same room in weeks. You were taken away, remember?”

He had. He let out a sigh as he grabbed her arm yanking her up and moving in the opposite direction of the way they were coming. Perhaps, they were a little clever. There was another exit and he hadn’t been able to disable it yet, not like the first.

“You got it?” He asked while gripping her arm. He briefly saw her pocket something but didn’t have a moment to really look at it.

“Yeah. Still didn’t answer my question, Sherlock…” She told him as he pushed behind a stack of cardboard while he finished the job. Three down and one was still missing. 

He reloaded while listening for any movement around them. He could probably get her out first. He thought of telling her what he was supposed to, ‘ _This is my job. We both have things we just do without question. That’s why I stay.’_ Yet he couldn’t say that to her. Because it wasn’t entirely true. 

As he opened his mouth to tell her the truth of it, what form of it he felt okay with the last man came from behind. He had been too close to Molly. She surprised him though. Taking something out of her pocket. Something he had to forget about briefly. An ordinary taser and she used it remarkably well. 

“How about we do not kill this one?” She smiled at him. 

The look in her eyes was something he always was wary about. It was close to morbid fascination but he knew it was only a joke to her. She wasn’t being serious nor could she be that cruel. It wasn’t who she was. 

“I suppose one being locked up won’t do too much harm.”

Mycroft’s text later told him that that was much lesser from the truth.

As they stood there, her stepping around the fallen man back to him she probed for the answer again.

“If it’s that important to you Molly, you give me reasons to stay. Not all of them deal with the scientific phenomenon. You’re quite brilliant on your own.”

She was smiling at him as she said it. 

“I know but thank you.” 

He was about ready to berate her for being like that. She skirted this way a lot of the time even if it did affect her emotionally. The way her eyes were glistening gave her away. Then she reached up and kissed him on the cheek and everything seemed better.

“I’m glad that you stick around. I genuinely feel the same way.”


	29. Of Doggos and Tiny Kiddos (Kidlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **writingwife83** asked: _How about little Molly helps little Sherlock train Redbeard when he first gets the puppy and is a little lost as to what he should do first. Or something like that. :))_

**Originally posted on June 20, 2015**

* * *

 

“What are you calling him?” Molly asked as she put some tuna out for her own feline as her mum had shown her to do.

“Redbeard.” He mumbled as he pets the reddish-brown fur of his puppy. He still couldn’t believe he had a little buddy of his own. It had been a surprise from his dad. 

Toby, Molly’s cat was looking at the new pet for a while before he moved over to the bowl of food so that he could eat. 

“Why Redbeard?” She smiled over her shoulder before she stepped on the stool to wash her hands before they left for the Holmes’ backyard that was larger than her own. Dogs needed room to run around even if Redbeard was still tiny. Sherlock had shown her pictures of his breed when they were fully grown and he was going to be a big dog.

“Redbeard is one of the most important pirates, obviously.” 

“Okay.” 

When they got to the backyard, Sherlock put Redbeard down to roam as much as he wanted. His dad had already gotten him bowls for his water and food and a leash. It was a bit too small for him but they wouldn’t have to worry about taking him for walks for a little while. 

“What am I supposed to do?”

Molly had a cat which was different than taking care of a dog but she had asked her mum about it when Sherlock had called with the news of having his own pet. There were a few simple things that they could try.

“Have you feed him already?”

He nodded. “What else?”

“He’ll need to learn about using the bathroom.”

“Don’t they already know how to do that?” Molly giggled.

“Not the right way. They can’t go on the floor, can they?”

Sherlock’s face scrunched up in disgust. “He’d be put in the doghouse for that!” 

“You have one of those too?” Molly questioned in surprise as she crouched down when Redbeard had maneuvered himself over to her feet and was sniffing at her. She reached her hand out for him to sniff properly which only caused him to lick her fingers. She giggled, looking up at Sherlock.

“He’s too small for it. Mum said he can sleep with me for a little while since he’s mine.”

Molly hummed thinking about it. “We can play a game with him.”

“Like what?” 

“Do you have a ball?” 

Sherlock left Molly reluctantly with Redbeard to go fetch the red and white striped ball that he kicked around sometimes if Mycroft was up for playing with him. He returned kicking it gaining his puppy’s attention. 

Redbeard moved towards it slowly as it stopped with the aid of Sherlock’s trainer on top of it. 

“He wants to play with it,” Molly told him as Redbeard tried to get on the top of the ball. Sherlock moved his foot so that Redbeard could access it easily. What followed could only be explained as being completely adorable. Redbeard managed to get on the very top of the ball after a few tries and lay there before the wind picked up and had him rolling under it.

Molly gasped as she rushed over to move the ball from crushing him. She didn’t have to worry much but she did. Sherlock began kicking the ball a bit and Redbeard soon followed him at a slow pace trying to see what his owner was up to.

Molly stood back watching as Sherlock and Redbeard moved side by side eventually developing a rhythm that involved Sherlock softly kicking the ball near the pup and the pup nudging the ball ever so slightly back in his direction. It went like this for a little while before Redbeard seemed to grown tired and stopped a few paces behind Sherlock.

He splayed on the ground.

Sherlock moved back over to him.

“Go get his bowl, he probably needs to drink some water,” Molly instructed as she petted his fur. Sherlock came back quickly with the bowl with Redbeard’s name on it.

The water splashed a little as he placed it near his head.

The bowl was huge but Redbeard didn’t seem to mind as he lifted his head into it and began lapping at the cool water.   
His enthusiasm grew slightly and soon he was getting the water everywhere because his body was nearly in the bowl.

“Redbeard!” Sherlock called when his pup started shaking his body when he was done and began to get water all over Molly and him. 

Redbeard lifted his head up to look at Sherlock with those eyes only a puppy could pull off. Sherlock smiled. “C’mere boy.” 


	30. Caring Mycroft (MYTHEA)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **chibicheeberson** asked: _ok so i don't have a prompt so much as i have an idea. i've seen a lot of fics where mycroft takes care of anthea if she's sick or hurt but i want to see the opposite. mycroft being taken care of after he gets wrecked during a mission. i'm a big fan of whump so you can be creative. i sent this to another author but since fics are all different, i figured it would be ok to reuse_

**Originally posted on July 24, 2015**

* * *

 

Anthea had a job to do as his partner in the business but it was during a time when he wasn’t even in her presence she felt more pressure to keep up the facade that she usually held up when it came to anyone who wasn’t Mycroft Holmes. The man had gone and gotten himself roughed up pretty bad on a mission he said was simplistic in nature.

She knew now that nothing was ever simple. She already knew that to be true due to previous instances where things didn’t shape up to be easy. However, this time it was different because it wasn’t her laying in a hospital bed it was Mycroft bloody Holmes. A man who some thought was untouchable. 

He was tangible but he tried not to be around the people he couldn’t stand. Anthea had witnessed it more closely than anyone apart from his own family. Even so, she was the only one sitting next to his bedside as he recovered from the multiple surgeries he had to undergo because of knife wounds he had received because he had been surrounded. 

The intel had been wrong or in the worst case scenario, they had a leak in the government. As she sat there watching Mycroft rest (read: who had been unconscious for the past seven hours), she was steadily typing away on her mobile this time digging for info from the one person she had to trust in this situation. He had a habit of dealing with conspiracies even the ones his brother didn’t want him involved in.

**Mother will want to know. - SH**

Anthea sighed. She didn’t want to scare the Holmeses but she didn’t really know how to bring up the topic on a phone call. Her mother would already know there was something wrong just by it being her calling them and not her son. A mother’s intuition she supposed. Anthea only had a mother for a few years of her life so she didn’t know much about that power. 

Mrs. Holmes was intelligent and she didn’t like lies. She didn’t think she would lie to her even if she wanted to. She liked her. 

Another text came in while she took another look at Mycroft. She thought she had heard him say something. She locked her phone as she got to her feet and moved the few paces she needed to be closer to him. He was still knocked out.

She frowned, giving him another once over. You couldn’t see the bandages but she knew several littered his body under his hospital gown and blanket that covered him. She had requested a few extras so that he would be absolutely comfortable. Anything less would show that she was the one who hadn’t been trying hard enough for him. She never wanted to seem that way.

Even though she was the only one who was there she did look around before brushing his hair lightly out of his face. The usual neat and swept back look of his brown hair was curling and in complete disarray. The least she could do is get it away from his face. As she got ready to pull away she heard him groan in pain.

“Sir?” She questioned. She turned slightly surveying the room once more to see if they had installed cameras. This was the best hospitals in Leeds. Leeds was the closest they could get when Anthea got the panic alarm on her mobile that only meant that someone had been critically injured and required assistance. 

He had to have known that he was in trouble. Normally would just work it out the best he could during field missions but this time was an exception. 

She waited a few beats to see if he was going to open his eyes or acknowledge that he heard her. One eye opens slowly before closing once again. “Anthea…” he breathed. 

“I can get the doctor,” Anthea told him as she watched his face scrunch up clearly that he was hurting more than he was expecting. 

“No. I’m fine. How long have you been here?”

He opened his eyes again to watch her. She was fuzzy but he could see enough to see the trembling in her normally composed stature. “Anthea.” He called again. 

The woman wiped the tears were starting roll down her face. “Sorry. I’ve been with you since we found you. I’m surprised you had time to input the alert code.”

“It was a simple code.” He stated as if it was that obvious. She wasn’t hearing it right now. He could have died. 

“You’re almost as moronic as your brother sometimes. I could have gone with you and we wouldn’t be here right now.” She told him as she folded her arms and sniffed after settling down her hysterical tears. 

“You’re being dramatic.” He tried to turn only to gasp deeply. 

“See what I mean.” She gently eased him back into the position he was in previously. “Stay still. You have been stabbed several times over. You almost bleed out, it won’t do to open up the wounds after the doctors worked so hard to get you stable.”

Mycroft made a face at that. “This is tiresome. However, you were correct my dear a problem arose.”

Anthea just looked at him as if she was waiting for him to say that. She smiled softly at him. It was hard for him to admit things like that anyone let alone the woman he was sharing a home with. 

“I’m having your brother look into it. We may have a bigger problem than you, Mycroft.” She didn’t let him tell her his usual ‘that is often the case’ because her phone started pinging again. 

She unlocked it and surveyed all the messages that Sherlock had sent her way. “Your brother is working on it.”

“Sherlock? Why would you involve him?” It didn’t surprise Anthea that he reacted that way. His brother had a habit of getting into trouble with the government and in turn giving Mycroft a headache. 

“Because he’s the only one I can trust with it and I wasn’t going to leave you alone.” He could hear the emotions physically dripping off her tongue and yet he could find a single word to say about it. He would blame it on the pain he was currently in. 

Anthea’s concern stayed lingering even when he was let go to go home a week later. 

Sherlock was waiting for them when they arrived. He surprised both of them but aiding Anthea with getting him inside and situated comfortably in the bedroom. “You’re full of surprises, brother mine.”

“You look pathetic and Mummy would kill me if she found out her dear Mycie wasn’t as comfortable as possible in his own home after having an ordeal not too unlike the one I had a year ago. Shall we call this karma?” He grinned before leaving the two of them alone. “I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done, _Anthea_.” 

“Your parents will be here tomorrow.” She stated as she sat down for a moment. Mycroft ran a hand down his face. “Splendid.”

“Someone has to be with you while I’m working.”

“You could take the time off with me.” He muttered.

Anthea just laughed. “I’ve already taken off plenty of time and someone has to do the work that is just piling up at the office. I’ll make the days short if I can manage it so we can share dinner.”

“Is that promise, my dear?” She could tell he wasn’t that enthused by the idea of his mother and father circling around him during the day but she gave him a small glimmer of hope for the nights. 

“Yeah, it’ll be nice to get off before 8 pm for once.” She winked at him which made him laughed minutely before stopping because it still hurt to move about with the wounds that still covered him. “No straining yourself while I talk to your brother. Call if you need something.” She gave him a stern look which was usually reserved for children and school teacher. 

He nodded. 

* * *

Anthea was thrilled with the information that Sherlock managed to get about what had happened to his brother. It seemed her dreaded conclusion had been right on the money. Someone had been serving as a double agent for the organization they had been trying to do dealings with. That person had been closer in the scope than expected and she had been all too eager to help Sherlock for two days straight to find the whereabouts of a Mr. Lewis Tulle who had gone into hiding upon finding out that Sherlock Holmes was looking into it and for him.

Sherlock let her get a good right hook on him before showing a little bit more of his brotherly love for Mycroft knocking the man out while they waited for the officials to get there to take him away. 

He should have been killed but in truth, they needed to know what he knew and who he had been sharing the information with. Later he could be disposed of.

When Anthea came home that night she was smiling a lot more than she had been lately and that had encouraged the Holmes duo of Mummy & Father to give them some space to celebrate whatever it was that had Anthea in such high spirits. 

“Good day?” He quirked his brow as she sat next to him. 

Anthea nodded before pecking his cheek. “We got him.”

Mycroft knew what she meant. “Splendid.” This time he wasn’t being sarcastic and Anthea loved that more than she couldn’t currently say. She wanted to enjoy a little well deserve snooze next to her partner who she missed on this. She looked forward to him joining her once he was healed fully. 


	31. Cheaters (Happy End)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **mizjoely** asked: _"We're cheaters. We're horrible people. Oh god my mother would be so ashamed of me right now." Sherlolly. Aaaand...go! :D_

**Originally posted on May 7, 2015**

Out of all the people in the world Molly Hooper had been less than thrilled to have woken up in a too-small bed in a place that she didn’t entirely recognize with Sherlock. It was doubly worse that she was fully aware that what they did was wrong while he was trying not to smile.

What a prick. 

She fumbled out of the bed nearly hitting her shoulder on the wall in her hurry as she started fishing for her clothes. “We’re cheaters. We’re horrible people. I mean I’m sure others would expect you to be horrible…I don’t mean that.” She paused, huffing looking back at him. Sherlock had sat up. “My mother is going to be so upset when she finds out about this. As if she wasn’t already ashamed of me about the whole mortician aspect of my life.”

Sherlock intercepted before she could go onto more of a tangent. He had had not expected her to react this badly. Things had been very different last night. He did vaguely remember that they had been drinking. That didn’t exactly matter though. He had enjoyed himself but she was not fine with it. 

Then again unlike she he wasn’t attached to anyone romantically, not officially. 

“Why do you care? Your mother has always disapproved of one thing or another about you.”

She turned, slipping on a sock and then a shoe while searching for her missing bra. She groaned, her head was killing her. 

“I can’t ignore my mother as much as I wish that she could. Do you know what she said when I had moved on after Tom and started dating again?”

He waited for her to continue. He had some inkling but he always felt better when she said was on her mind even if it wasn’t something he completely agreed with. Like now. 

“It’s good you’re not falling over that disgraced detective anymore. This is not helping Sherlock.”

“I’m not disgraced…anymore.” He mumbled.

Molly fastened her bra as before walking back to the bed where he was. “I know that. She just doesn’t like you.”

He knew it wasn’t the time but when was it ever the time for either of them. He chose to let it slip out. “My parents like you.”

Molly’s eyes were wide and her mouth dropped slightly. “You…” She started before he grinned. “It might have slipped out once or twice when my mum was fretting about not having anyone with me to look out for me.”

“What did you say…exactly?” 

She kind of hated how one little thing that he did or said made her stop and want to know just a tiny bit more about him or what he thought of when it came to her. He had gotten slightly more vocal about what he thought. It was treated better than years past and she genuinely appreciated that. Curiosity had been one of the things that had her intrigued with him. There was the physical appeal of course but there had always been more to him. Not everyone understood that. 

“I believe that I said ‘I have a Molly. No. Not drugs. I’m good. Molly Hooper. She’s a friend. Very important friend.’ Mummy had sort of latched onto you though. I’m sure she knows more than you probably expect her to know about you but we can all thank my brother for that. I’d rather keep you away from that.”

Molly giggled. “You can’t protect me from everyone you know. Parents are good things though.”

“Depends on the perspective.” Sherlock stared at her. He hadn’t told her everything that had happened when he talked to his parents about her. She didn’t know that he told them about how she had a habit of saving his life and making him feel human when everything else is blurry and disconnected. 

No. After what had happened, he didn’t know if he could do that.

Then she kissed him. Full on the mouth, hands in his disheveled curls and he had wanted to unsnap her bra again and pull her back to him. 

“I will come by later when things are clear.” She told him once she had all her clothes on. He had thought about stopping her once or twice but he didn’t know if that was what she wanted right now. 

Kisses could mean anything. Her words meant more.

He sighed once he was left alone. He reached over for his which he had turned off at some point. Turning it back on was a bad idea so he just tossed it up in the air a couple of times before settling back into the sheets. He could still smell her there. 

He shut his eyes. 

One quick sweep of his mind palace wouldn’t hurt. 

-

A few hours later when he was showered, in a new set of clothes and back at 221b he received a very abrupt visit from Molly’s boyfriend. It mostly involved cursing and a pretty hard right hook leaving Sherlock mouth cut open. 

Molly wasn’t too far behind the bloke but it was clear that things had been sorted out. She left him in the sitting area to his kitchen probably to get ice. “Sorry.” She told him as she pressed the ice to his mouth. The swelling was already starting. 

“No, you’re not.”

He wasn’t talking about what she was but he knew that she would understand. She always did, didn’t she? 


	32. Bad First Words (Parentlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **missmollybloom** asked: _Parentlock idea #1 - Sherlock has some explaining to do to an unimpressed Molly when their son's first word is "corpse"._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more of the lovely Ezra Hooper-Holmes. I love this sweet boy. It does pretty much erase certain things that happen in the M& Y verse.

**Originally posted on July 2, 2015**

* * *

 

“Well you see…” He starts but stops when he sees that look on his wife’s face. He had done something bad in her book. He could see why by stepping in her shoes but he didn’t think it was that bad. 

Yet, they were here. 

Molly's arms folded, a glare that could practically kill him if she wanted it to and that foot of her tapping a steady rhythm. Unfortunately, there was no music playing. She was just upset.

“Well, you know with your profession…” He sighed, moving over to sit on his chair to think properly. He didn’t know how to get out of this one. Anything he thought of saying wouldn’t really help quell his wife’s outlook on the fact that their son had said a word that he probably shouldn’t even know until he’s at least ten years old.

Ezra was walking at least. He had an inquisitive mind that was hard to find mediocre ways of teaching him about anything. Sherlock had gotten creative in all the ways he was supposed to and the others that he wasn’t supposed to. She couldn’t blame him for trying, right?

“Sherlock, how did this happen?”

He lifts his head to look at Molly who had moved to sit in front of him on the coffee table. He briefly notes because he knows it that it’s a sturdy table from previous uses. Endnote. 

He didn’t know how to answer that.

Well…

Not true. He had the answer but he didn’t think she would like to answer to that either. 

“Truth or Lie?” He questioned her as he wrung his hands. His mouth tilted barely into a small smile and Molly shook her head at him.

“We don’t lie anymore.” She told him softly.

“Yeah, okay. I was reading one of your journals to him. He must have remembered it and latched onto it like a prize.”

“Which journal?”

“The one with your notes about the autopsies. I skipped over a lot of them. Only the cut dry ones that wouldn’t do much to him if he repeated it back to someone later.”

Molly sighed. “Why didn’t you just read him the children books that we got from your mother?”

“He wasn’t interested. He kept straying from me but whenever I read a few pieces of it he sits still and even looked engaged. It wasn’t my intention to make this into something horrible. I just liked the way he looked when he was focused and enthralled by something.”

Molly stared at her husband. He had that sad look on his face that he reserved for whenever he knew he had done something was wrong but wanted to fix or be forgiven. Both were easily readable on his face. 

She reached for Sherlock’s hand. 

“We’ll keep it to one section a week. I’m glad you didn’t take him to the morgue.”

“Not until he’s older and you approve.” He perked up.

Molly shook her head, smiling begrudgingly at him. “Deal.”


	33. Conflicting Ideas (Parentlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **missmollyboom** asked: _Parentlock idea #2 - Molly and Sherlock's son and John and Mary's daughter are almost expelled from school. When their parents ask them to explain themselves, they show them all the evidence they've gathered that the deputy principal is embezzling funds. Mary and Sherlock couldn't be prouder. John and Molly would rather the kids focus on their studies._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *insert notes from the original post for relevance*  
> note before you read: I’m using Ezra again because it’s the perfect opportunity to think of him when he’s older - something I have yet to do since he’s still a kid in the [M&Y universe](https://archiveofourown.org/series/77347) right now. Also Libby Watson is a new creation so this is the first time I’ll ever be fleshing her out. Good news that baby Watson finally has a name for the verse. Might even add this fic later when I get to the teen years. Anyways read on my dears.

**Originally posted on July 23, 2015**

* * *

 

Ezra had no idea how to explain to his mother why he had been sent to the principal’s office for the fifth time this term. His cohort in all things deemed devious was smiling triumphantly in the face of the man who held their fate in his hands.  

The principal - Mr. Philips was currently considering expelling both of them for what they had uncovered. Ezra was concerned to an extent. He didn’t want to put his parent's good work getting him into this school to go to ruin because they had done some investigating. However, he didn’t like being made out to be a liar either which he assumed was about to be the case.

The good news was that they had done a proper and thorough investigation as if he was on a job with his father and had plenty of evidence to back up. This was probably why the blonde who had a knack for dangerous situations such as this was as chipper as ever. Her smile was the opposite of the blank expression that sat on the curly haired teen who just sat looking at Mr. Philips as if extremely bored.

When the door swung up and he could hear his mother - resident pathologist and part-time stay at home mom getting flustered as she tried not to have a panic attack. “Surely you can’t expel them for a petty lie can you.”

Ezra had got to his feet then and turned to his mother frowning. “It’s not a lie, Molls. They really are embezzling funds. Why would I lie about something like that?”

Sherlock who was eying the principal rather intensely turned to his wife and put a firm hand on her shoulder to stop her in her tracks. “He’s right. How did you know son?”

For this information, Ezra turned to Libby who was getting equally the same treatment from John. Libby reached into her bag which she had been holding rather eagerly this entire time and pulled out papers. There had to be a whole file of material. She moved away from her parents to give it to her Uncle who she knew would be able to make more sense of it than her father. Or at least he’d see what they had done more quickly. 

Molly looked with Sherlock who was humming. “I believe you owe us an apology for making us come up here,” Molly stated once she had thoroughly looked at it. She trusted her husband and while she couldn’t stand the look of pride on his face at the face of their son getting ejected from his school she still knew that the kids were not involved in anything bad. 

It was partially Mary & Sherlock’s fault for being so encouraging all the time. She encouraged them too but in low key ways. 

“Let me see that there.” The principal gestured the stack of papers that were in Molly’s hand. She looked to Mary first before shaking her. “Sorry, I can’t be sure if you’re not involved along with your assistant principal. I’m handing it over to the police.”

Ezra let out a sigh of relief. He knew he nor Libby were off the hook in the least but at least they wouldn’t be getting expelled any time soon. He could almost guarantee it.

“Sherlock, dear would you…” She started only for him to be already pocketing his phone.

“Alright contacted Lestrade. I’m so proud of you, Ezra.” He grinned as he reached over to ruffle the curls roughly which only made the boy laugh and swat his hand away.

“Clearly you got some good genes from the two of us.” Mary complimented her daughter who had took a lollipop from her stash and plopped it in her mouth. 

“As if I had nothing to do with that,” John grumbled. “Anyways we will have a long talk about this when we get home.”

Molly, on the other hand, was conflicted about what she could do with this situation. Ezra hadn’t done anything wrong but she wondered how they could have got their hands on information like this. There was no clean way to do it and she hoped this wouldn’t lead to any more headaches. Sherlock was a headache on his own but add that to their teenage son and a teenage girl who came from their best friends that were tricky to deal with.

She decided to handle it as the blows came. The first hurdle was more or less over. It was the police they had to deal with next. Lestrade would be lenient for the most part as long as there were no culprits in the intermediate family of both sides.

She had been right about that. He had bagged the records and told Ezra, “I’m going to have to look out for you too aren’t, I lad? You’re showing a likeness to your dad.” It didn’t seem like he was all that bothered by it but having two Sherlocks was a lot to deal with. The only grace was that he was calmer and collected like Molly so he wouldn’t go out of his way to be annoying to anyone if he decided that’s what he wanted to do.

In reply to what his godfather had said about him being like his dad, Ezra had one thing to say. “Thanks. I don’t mind being like Lock.”

Molly sighed, she didn’t really mind either.

When they got home Molly sat Ezra down while Sherlock took a cue to go make them tea so she could have a little one on one with him. 

“Am I grounded?” Ezra mumbled looking down at his hands. As much as he adored his father he hated disappointing his mum in any way. This was a pretty big disappointment he felt.

Molly pulled him into a side hug. “No, but no experiments with Sherlock for a week.” She heard a groan come from the kitchen. Ezra only nodded, accepting that he deserved that. “I just want the best for you, Ezra. I want you to learn and grow in the world safely but I know you need more than that and I’ll try to give you wiggle room to do that. I just don’t want anything bad to happen. I love you, you know that.”

He did know that. He loved his mum and that’s why it weighed on him when they got caught looking into the records that were supposedly secured with lock and key. 

“I’ll try my best to make you proud too.” He already knew that his dad was proud of him. 

“That’s all I ask.” The brunette muttered as she kissed him on the cheek just as Sherlock came in with a tray for their tea time. He smiled at them. “Good?”

Molly nodded. 

They were just fine. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *more notes*
> 
> Not as much Libby as I hoped but there’s room to do more with her when I get the chance. She’s younger than Ezra and in my mind’s eye, she probably roped him into investigating when he mentioned that something was amiss. I really liked writing this. I hope you liked reading it. <3


	34. When Sherlock Deduces Molly With A Good End (Parentlock! Sherlolly)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **missmollybloom** asked: _Parentlock idea #3 - Sherlock deduces that Molly is pregnant before she even realises she's late. She comes home one evening to find that Sherlock has bought every single book on pregnancy and parenting he could find and has been speed-reading them all afternoon. Instead of greeting her, he starts rattling off as many details as he can think of. When Molly asks him what's going on Sherlock looks at her blankly before saying, "Oh, you're pregnant. Did I forget to mention that part?"._

**Originally posted on July 25, 2015**

* * *

 

Molly doesn’t remember the last time she was this utterly exhausted after work. The crime rate had had an influx as of late which only left her feeling a little more than sick to her stomach. Not to mention eagerly waiting to drag her feet to a soft surface in her home and just sleep for the next forty hours if at all possible. 

It was so compelling that she almost bypassed the sitting room where Sherlock was sitting on the floor completely immersed in a stack of book and papers covering the entire floor and some of the wall. She stopped, thinking first that perhaps he had gotten a really good case and shouldn’t be interrupted only to look closely at her partner.

The books were a strong clue. Baby books and books about pregnancy littered the area that surrounded him. She blinked at him. “Um, Sherlock…” She started unsure how to approached this subject even though he seemed to be deep in his readings. 

“Ah, you’re home Molly.” He voiced without ever lifting his head from his position in the book about what to expect when you’re expecting.

“Yes…” She trailed off as she dropped her bag near the sofa and slid onto it carefully and folded her legs so they weren’t in his way. She didn’t want to disturb whatever this is. “What’s this about?” She gestured lazily to his mound of literature. Peculiar it all was.

“Oh, you’re pregnant Molly. Did I forget to say that aloud two days ago?”

Molly sat up instantly knocking over a couple of books in the process cause her detective to immediately look up and frown at the mess she was making. “What?” She balked.

Sherlock closed the book and sighed while looking at his girlfriend. She really hadn’t noticed. Barts was driving her into the ground. He frowned even more before creating a space for him to reach her comfortably. 

He sat on his knees in front of her and grabbed her hands. “Molly…” He whispered softly. “You’ve been showing preliminary signs that you’re having my baby for about a week but I didn’t really process it until two days ago.”

“How?” She stopped, remembering he did the same when Mary didn’t know. “We haven’t ever talked about it.” She said as she took one of her hands away from him and ran it through her hair. 

“It’s likely you’ll make it to term. Miscarriages happen but my family has a good history of that not happen. Unless you count…” 

Before he could continue Molly had put her hand over his mouth. “Don’t say another word. That’s not the best way to help me relax after finding out I’m having a baby from the father instead of a doctor.”

He moved her hand away. “Sorry. What I meant was, we’re going to be fine. I have a lot of information stored up now. I could probably birth the baby if you wanted me to.”

Molly had to laugh at that. “Okay. No, I don’t want you to do that but it’s nice you know how Sherlock.” Molly’s head was reeling though. She looked at all the material he had gotten about babies and smiled. 

This was something he wanted. Something she could honestly not fight him on. 

“Let’s set an appointment for tomorrow. I do need my rest now though.”

“I’ll set it up.” He promised before kissing her on the forehead. He waited until she was lying comfortably on the couch to turn back to his collection of material. He moved back into it with ease.

His back was turned to her so he didn’t see the giant grin that slipped onto her face. She felt utterly happy and nervous but excited that he was so invested in this. This wasn’t what she had been expecting when she came home but she would take it. 


	35. Lost Travelers (Unilock Sherlolly)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **anonymous** asked: _Sherlock and Molly go on a camping trip and get lost._

**Originally posted on March 25, 2014**

* * *

 

It was an interesting turn of events, Molly had to admit. First being paired with one of the more cutthroat males in her class and then suddenly finding themselves lost in the miles of muck and trees that were now drenched in the downpour. She would probably have a lot to say about this when she wasn’t afraid of the possibility of getting pneumonia.

She supposed in a way it all started with their instructor Miss Wickham decision to pair everyone off in sets of female and male counterparts. Most of the class had groaned at this already having to decide to tag along in groups of their friends. Not everyone was lucky to have such social graces as this which was why Miss Wickham chose to mix everyone around. Not only were they not in groups but most were paired off with a person they hadn’t ever interacted with.

Except for Molly. It was in her experience that having one small encounter with the oddly handsome Sherlock Holmes probably gave her an advantage. However how minimal it was. She had been trying to reach for a book on a ladder in the library. The ladder only gave so much access and as the older boy by a year was sitting close to where she was browsing. His contempt for her distracting activities caused him to let out an annoyed sigh and get to his feet and make a grab for the book she was struggling to get on her own. The only thing he said was that “You are much too distracting for such a plain person.”

Molly took that as a compliment however little it really was one and thanked him before leaving him to his thoughts. He was surrounded by books that he hadn’t opened half of as he sat there gazing off in the distance. She had wondered vaguely if he was actually researching something or was it all a ruse in order to have a quiet place to have to himself to his thoughts.

Now as Sherlock sidled next to her after their instructor called out their names together she remembers how annoyed everyone else was about it. Most of the girls once finding out they would be paired with guys made enthusiastic comments about how nice it would be alone with him. It was funny to Molly that they all saw him as this beautiful person yet didn’t look at his outward irritation with all of them. Especially the one called Irene Adler who she had heard tried to make a pass at him more often than not.

A part of Molly was slightly relieved that she wouldn’t have to hear another false story about the two of them. It was not because she knew Sherlock Holmes, or bore some hidden affections for him. It tired her greatly to have to continuously hear the chatter of lies and exaggerated tales brought on by the woman who looked at her with the same amusement that some found in a kitten who played with a ball of yarn.

There was also this part of her that felt less eager to share any details about the weekend that she would share with Sherlock. In and out of their separate tents. While they were all adults in the eyes of the law, Miss Wickham didn’t see it that way. Sharing tents with both genders seemed like a bad experiment that was only read about in gossip columns and stories from days gone by.

Molly was grateful for some of the set rules. It aided her in some light but it also became messier for others.

The first day went off well enough. Everyone stayed close the first day camping out in the designated area and having a small bonfire at night to tell ghost stories about the area. One of the older boys Sebastian was particularly good at this. Between him and another boy called Jim, it was surprising that anyone got any sleep the first night.

The next day however everyone set out on an excursion that was more of a trek to find certain  _treasures_  at specific points of the area around and beyond the camping grounds. It was where the buddy system came to play, which wasn’t a bad thing exactly unless you were Molly who didn’t exactly know how to interact with people all that well. Add the fact that she was stuck with Sherlock and it was bound to get worse and it did when they got lost looking for the fifth item.

There was a prize in this hunt for the hidden artifacts, the one that racked up the most or all of the ten would get an extra bonus to their final grade as well as an all-expense-paid visit to one of the sister universities to take part in a very special program. They didn’t have to do that together given the fact that most or each person had a different field of choice.

It was an adequate bonus.

However, it wasn’t an easy feat. Especially when no one had ever been on the grounds before to scope out the area. That was supposed to be the challenging part. They did have maps. How little help it turned out to be when every single tree and turn looked identical.

They had managed to nab four of the items through different methods of deliverance. Sherlock finding the first two without much of a word to Molly who followed him closely. His long legs were faster but she managed as much as she could and then, in turn, gestured for him, in turn, to follow her as she had spotted the third one. After that Sherlock decide to break the silence.

“Most girls would probably talk if given the chance to be around me. You’re not like them. I’ve gathered as much already…”

Molly looked at him briefly as they stopped and she turned around trying to find where they were on the map before moving on. She shrugged. She didn’t know what to say to that nor did she exactly know what to do about it. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to him. She did, she wanted to pick his brain about a few things that she had read about but just was too distracted to attempt it. Especially when she had to be sure to keep track of him. He moved quickly.

When they started moving again and she still hadn’t said anything he huffed. “Molly, talk.”

“I’m trying to think, Sherlock. I can’t entertain you and do this at the same time. I think we took a wrong turn somewhere.” She told him quietly.

“At least you’re speaking to me. It unnerves people when others ignore them.”

“Funny for you to say that when I’ve been most attentive to you all day. Just because I’m not breathing down your neck about something doesn’t mean that I’m paying you no mind. Would you prefer if I was like Irene in that respect?”

“No!” He shouted, giving her a look that made her smile. “You give a girl a drink at a family function and next thing you know she wants to take you any place at any time.” Molly colored at his choice of words.

Sherlock smirked at her. “You are so innocent, Miss Hooper.”

“You’re one to talk.” She balked, stopping at a tree so she can get a better look at where they were so she can decipher if she could spit any of their peers. Had they gone too far off track? The last two were fairly close to each other.

Sherlock took the map out of her hands despite the fact that he had his own in the back pocket of his trousers. Molly tried to grab it from him but he held it high as he inspected it and looked about. “What do you mean?”

“Any sane man in your position would not run from a woman like her or from any of the others who have tried to get your attention.”

“Perhaps I am merely not interested in what they are offering. There is much more to find enjoyable than  _sex_. He mumbled before grabbing her hand with one of his hands as he stowed the map in his teeth and they took off again. They made it to clearing only to find it vacant apart from a flag that had a finger pointing to the right. They had seen identical ones around and began to follow it when the sound of thunder broke through.

Molly jumped beside Sherlock. He had withdrawn his hand from hers but looked at her curiously. "Afraid of thunder are we?”

Something in Molly grew agitated at his teasing tone. She almost opened her mouth to say something vile out of contempt but she held it back as they found the fourth item.

Thinking they were lost at first was a mistake as it began to drizzle quickly only about ten minutes after their newest find it soon became clear that there was little hope that they would discover the rest before it turned into a full on storm. Molly tried to get Sherlock to go back closer to the camp so they would at least be able to figure out how to get out of it when it got worse. He claimed they would be fine knowing that they had bought extra gear for just this reason.

Molly frowned by pulled her hood over her head more securely as she continued to travel with Sherlock to another sector of the area. To be truthful she did enjoy this. Discovering new areas that she had never before was exciting but so was being back in her room with her books on anatomy and chemistry. The sciences were where her heart lived and she knew Sherlock appreciated these in part as well.

“I’m surprised you came on this trip willingly.” Molly intercedes his thoughts as he faces forward allowing the drops of water to hit his hair full on. He looks like he’s concentrating but Molly isn’t sure what he’s seeing. It does remember of that brief moment in the library, however.

“Family threatened to take away some of my privileges that keep me focused enough not to run off and do things they don’t approve. This way.” He turned and started off leaving Molly to rush after him as he sprinted.

In his rush, Molly noticed he hadn’t exactly Ben maying kind to what was on the ground and as he kept moving higher and higher Molly realized that the change of the grass to more sturdy and clipped rock could cause problems. Especially for someone like Sherlock who went into action without a little mind to what he was doing or what he missed. Molly called out to him a few times trying to get him to slow down so that he wouldn’t hurt himself. She wasn’t too concerned about the fact that she was too far behind him. He could hear and smell things as if he was a hound himself. She had noticed this in pieces before when she had nearly fallen into some poison ivy and he had pulled her into the other side of him.

The rain was not going to help him stay as graceful as he has been as he lurched forward in gaits the resembled a horse. She was proven right as she soon found herself standing over his form as he tried to leverage one of his legs into working twice as hard as both when he fell across some wood and clipped his ankle on some rough rocks. “Sherlock, I told you to stop.” She scolded him as she bent down and reached down for his arm and dragged him up to a decently concealed tree where they could sit and not be drowned in the downpour as much.

He winced and still tried to get to his foot even though Molly noticed the way a bone looked to be protruding out of his leg near where his boot cut off. “Let me look!” She told him, pushing his hand away when he tried to push it back inside. She set her bag next to him as she moved his shoe aside, tossing it to the side and extending the ligament. He groaned, “That is not helping, Molly.”

“You’re not doing yourself any favors by being so idiotic either, so shut up and let me do what I can.” She missed the way his eyes widened and stared at her with something akin to respect as she took a small first aid kit out of her bag. She poked and prodded at the area where the bone was sticking out again before she gave him a towel to chew on. “I’m gonna have to put it back it and you’re going to have to trust me enough to endure whatever problem that comes later.”

He took the towel, eyed a moment before looking at her again. Her own eyes looked hesitant but one nod from Sherlock basically gave her permission to do what she needed to do. She was quick about it. She knew the basics and had seen it in done in practice a few times. She ignored the loud grunting sound Sherlock made after the bone was reset back in his leg. She wrapped it with one of her spare rags, there was blood from where it broke the skin. She made sure to clean it before tying his leg.

It was safe to say they were not making the trek back down to where everyone else was until daybreak or the storm stopped. Whichever came first. She would have to help him. It would take a little while for him to be able to walk on it properly again.

Molly settled down beside him after she finished. Sherlock didn’t want his boot back on just yet so they left it as it. Molly realized how little she had eaten earlier before they left and as it had grown darker in the night she knew it was to try to gorge on something else. She had a few things in her sack as did Sherlock. He reached for his own as they sat under the tree. It was harder than he thought having taken it off his back when Molly lugged him up there. Molly passed it to him with a smile.

Sherlock mumbled thanks before tossing her something wrapped in foil. When Molly unwrapped it, she was surprised to see different finger sandwiches that looked appetizing. It was better than the few things she had with her. She hadn’t had much money to spend on anything. She looked at Sherlock who had already started to gnaw at his own selection. “Mrs. Hudson in the Pastry/Cooking field is fond of me. Tries to give me extras whenever she sees me around. She heard about to trip from my brother who talks too much and she passed on excess sustenance. Not that I was going to eat all of it on my own. I imagine she had a discussion with Miss Wickham and tossed in more. I enjoy her cooking so, eat.” He told her finally after the explanation was over.

Molly tried to hide her smile behind the first sandwich as she took a few tentative bites of it. “That’s really sweet. It’s nice to have people to keep an eye on you.”

He shrugged his shoulders. He knew the story behind Molly’s own family turmoil despite the fact he hadn’t heard it from her mouth. He did his research on her once. Her father died and her mother was in a different part of the country living with her grandmother while she went to school. Molly takes on multiple jobs to ensure not only her stability in school but also her mothers. Sherlock tried not to comment on the fact directly to her because he had bad words about how families were supposed to be run. Mothers take care of their children, not the other way around. Not that he had much experience in that field. Mycroft had been his guardian for years despite the fact that his parents were both alive and inseparable.

He distanced himself from them long ago. He goes to family dinner when requested or when he knows it’s been too long and they’ll start calling for a weekend at home.

He enjoys the solitude of being on his own. He has an idea that she does too. He’s seen her looking cheerful if a bit exhausted outside of class before.

“I’m sure she’ll want to meet you when this is over now that you’ve helped me.” Molly rolled her eyes at him as she balled the foil up after finishing her sandwiches. She passes him an apple and he takes a bite out of it.

They pass the time talking about what interests them for the most part as it continues to rain around them. Sherlock forgets about his leg for a little while and relishes in the first time he’s even really talked to someone about all the things he wants to do when he finishes in another year. Much of the things aren’t something his family approves of and Molly gets it. Her fascination with death and how things come to an end has its own problems for her mother who wishes she would just be a doctor or surgeon. She has the skill to do many things but he can tell that she doesn’t feel as passionate about it nor does she have the social grace to communicate with the living. He’s an exception because they happened to see things in a similar light.

When it is completely dark beyond the lightning Sherlock takes a blue quilt that he happened to fit in his sack. Originally he didn’t think it was necessary but thought better of it at the last second. Molly had fallen asleep and he noticed that he had practically been drenched in the trek up here.

He’d rather her not get sick after all the things they had already been through in this one day. He puts it around her as best as he could while also giving himself some of it. It was large enough for two. His coat was still warming him so he didn’t mind the chill that much. There wasn’t something about the small stature of Molly that made him feel concern for her well being.

When day broke Molly slowly began to stir as if she could tell it was time for them to get a head start back down. It had never really crossed either of their minds that perhaps someone might come looking for them or be worried. They weren’t exactly founders children despite the fact that his brother did give so much money to the school to ensure certain things.

They packed up, Molly said little to him about the blanket despite that fact that he knew she seemed appreciative of his effort to shield her from nature’s harsh reality. Then she helped him to his feet before moving to be his crutch as they began the trek back down. They managed to get lost only once with the light providing decent coverage for them to see things better.

They stopped a few times so that Molly could take a break from holding Sherlock up.

When they finally back to the campgrounds Miss Wickham rushed towards them with hurried haste to her step. She fretted over both of them, explaining that they had to wait until the morning to try to look for them after the storm was over and were just about to get started. It was as she said this that Sherlock noticed his brother eyeing him with a steely expression from a log that he had perched himself on.

He cut off Molly’s explanation of how they got lost as he shot her a look and gestured for her to help him over there. He didn’t tell her who the man was but she seemed to recognize him to an extent. Sherlock thought that was curious but perhaps she had read something about him in the paper.

“Tripped did you, brother?”

Sherlock just stared at him before turning to Molly. “Molly helped me with that. She’s efficient with medical things apparently.”

Mycroft turned his sight on Molly who stared back stiffly before helping Sherlock sitting down. “Ah, not too surprising Sherlock. That is Miss Hooper’s field of choice even if her profession is less than normal for a woman. All the same,” he continued despite the look both younger students were shooting at him. “Thank you for looking over him after he did something stupid. You’ll be compensated soon, I’m sure.”

Molly opened her mouth to refuse any sort of thing when Sherlock beckons her to sit beside him. Molly looked between the two brothers, realizing that Sherlock seemed to expect something like this to come from his brother, making no comment as she sat down.

“I will meet you by the medic's station, brother,” Mycroft muttered before leaving the two of them alone though they were completely surrounded by people who made whispered inquiries about what had happened to them. They both ignored it as Sherlock called her name.

“Yes?” She mumbled. She turned her head towards him giving Sherlock her full attention. He was swift as he pressed his mouth on her cheek and then turned away as if he hadn’t just been affectionate towards her in the slightest. “Thank you for…everything.” Then he got up and made his way towards the direction where his brother had headed. He struggled but he didn’t seem to want her or anyone’s help either.

There were a few days before they saw each other again but when they did Sherlock was introducing her to a pair of people who he seemed well acquainted with called Mary and John and they were asking her to come out with them to a diner to eat.

She didn’t have to work that night so she reluctantly accepted.


	36. Delayed Reaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [MorbidbyDefault](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorbidbyDefault/pseuds/MorbidbyDefault) (Megan) asked: _Sherlock gets the chicken pox. He didn’t get them as a kid so he’s entirely to unbearable for the Watson’s who have Baby Watson to think about, and so Molly volunteers her help not giving a hint to the fact that she too has never had the illness before. She tries to keep mum about it even when she starts to get sick herself._

**Originally posted April 30, 2014**

* * *

 

Molly had been getting odd texts for the better part of the day from equal parts of the Watson family. Some that made it clear that she needed to make a trip to Baker Street to aid in helping get Sherlock under control if not just a little calm. He was driving his friends up the wall. He was sick apparently and in need of coddling and they had a baby to worry about. They couldn’t exactly juggle an annoying, ridiculous man child who happened to experience the difficulty that came with a late bloom of an illness that you were more likely to have when you were younger.

It just wouldn’t do.

Molly called them on her mobile as she collected a few of her things knowing she would be gone and away from her place for the rest of the day. What good were days off when you had to deal with a patient that could actually be troublesome? She sighed, after reassuring them that he would be fine and that he would soon stop badgering them soon enough.

“It can’t be soon enough. Thanks for this Molly, I know you deal with him more than anyone else but we need a break.” John sounded exhausted and Molly smiled a little knowing how being around Sherlock could make someone a little crazy, add the fact there was a newborn in the equation and well she got why they had to find someone to be a shield from dealing with another child.

Molly tried calling Sherlock a few times as she made her way down to Baker Street but he seemed to be dodging her calls or the lines were mixed up because he was busy irritating John and Mary. Regardless Molly went up after Mrs. Hudson had opened the door for her and let herself in despite the imagery of his tossing something at someone who he hadn’t let in himself.

The sight she found had her nearly doubling over in laughter though she managed to contain herself even as he turned around and frowned at her. He had a large stock of celery in his hand and he was using it to scratch an itch that he couldn’t get to on his back. “I hope you aren’t going to eat that.” She mumbled as she walked over to the couch and placed her bag onto it. Then she followed him into the kitchen where he grabbed another piece of the vegetable that was already cut and began munching on it.

“What are you…” He paused as he crunched on what was in his mouth, he grumbled as he went back to scratching much to Molly’s chagrin with the other bunch that he held in his opposite hand. “Doing here?”

She shook her head at him. “The Watson’s are not your caretakers. You are a grown man who knows how to fend for himself.”

“All common knowledge, Miss Hooper.” His annoyance is clear but she brushes it aside as she reaches for the celery that is behind his back but he hops back and continues to grunt as he maneuvers on to get that annoying itch out of control.

She sighs before following him as he ended up at the wall, corned. “That isn’t helping you. Nor is if sanitary.” She tells him calmly still frowning as she puts her hand in front of her beckoning for him to give it to her. She thinks it’s funny on the inside that he didn’t better plan his way out of this position. This was his domain after all.

Sherlock gave Molly gave a very long look before reluctantly handing over the vegetable and moving along when Molly began to usher him out into the sitting room. She plopped him down in his chair before asking him whether or not he’d done of the normal things you do when you have the chicken pox.

The detective sat there trying hard not to be rash as he rubbed at his arms and tried not to scratch as Molly was eyeing him with what look that she only gave when she was trying hard not to stop him from doing something that she didn’t approve of. This was one of those things because apparently you weren’t supposed to claw yourself when that’s all you wanted to do with red spots covering your body that was beginning to feel too warm to be normal.

None of this normal for him. He was usually the image of health. With the exception, he reminded himself of his addiction to anything lethal - cocaine, heroin, nicotine (when used severely) not that he needed to be reminded of that. Molly seemed to take his silence for a negative answer. She was quick to beckon him up again. “Bathroom, now.” When he didn’t move she continue, “The warm water will help.”

He trusted her method but he couldn’t help but feel like a child as he moved from the couch towards the bathroom. The thought of bath time as a child ran through his head, a small memory of his mother before he completely shut it down thinking it not fully appropriate to be thinking of such a thing when there was a fully grown woman willing to help make sure he had the right temperature and soaked for the correct amount of time. Not the right thing to be thinking of. Not now. It made him very uncomfortable.

He only relaxed when Molly satisfied with the water’s temperature went ahead and left him be and only came back into his presence fifteen minutes later when he was standing in his bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and hair dripping.

She seemed to still be in doctor mode as she had him sit after he covered his private regions with a pair of boxers and sat on the bed. Molly had moved her bag in there he noticed as she bent over to retrieve a few things from it.

“Put these on.” She turned back around and handed him something soft. He eyed them shortly, before slipping them on. He knew a little about the chickenpox. Right now he wished he would have suffered the consequences when he was still younger so he wouldn’t have to be smothered by another but at least it was someone he liked.

“Helps with the scratching, I suppose.” He mumbled as he felt the bed dip slightly as Molly sat close to him. She had a bottle of something in her hand. “This too. I need to put it on most of the areas. It has a bit of a cooling effect.” Molly informed him as she took his arm first and began to slap on a generous amount of the gunk that came squirting out the bottle. He let her do the other arm before commenting into the affirmative that her conclusions were correct, as usual.

She gave him a smile before sliding off the bed and starting at his neck and rubbing some there also. She continued on down his shoulders and down his back and if this was any other situation he would have probably forgotten himself for a second done something more primal but instead, he settled for focusing on breathing and the coolness of the air that had settled around him. There was still the underlying warmth but as Molly had been doing she had a remedy for that, too.

“Acetaminophen is safe for you.”

He declines it anyways. Drugs are drugs and his mother had talked his ear off the last time Mycroft called about the last episode. He rather not have to have another one. “I’ll ride it out on my own if it’s all the same to you.”

Molly shrugged and finally sat back down in front of him. She let out a breath of air and moving her hair from her face as it fell from the messy bun that she had piled it into. “The last time I did this I had two twins to worry about. At least you’re complacent.” She giggled.

“Ha ha ha.” His face screwed up as he held out his mitt covered hands. He must have been a sight not that he minded. He felt better. He swallowed as he got ready to tell her something that he rarely said but in their time together he had said more than with anyone else that he knew. “Thank you for putting up with me when I’m like this. I’ll probably say something to offend you while I’m unwell.”

“If you used that for every single time you’ve said something that upset me or anyone you’d be alone right now. Because you know your tongue and it’s as slick and loose as a playboy who doesn’t have any common sense. You happen to have plenty of that. So don’t worry, I’m fine.” She cleared her throat as wiped her hands on the towel that was damp from use. She felt strange. Not exactly unwell but she was tired.

“Anyways, you should probably try to rest.” She refrained from saying it would help, she had said it enough. “Are you staying?” He mumbled as he began to try to reach over his shoulder. It had been about ten minutes since Molly had applied the calamine lotion. The cooling effect had eased up a little bit causing the irritation to return in all its hellish fury.

“Yeah, just in case anything else happens. I can take John’s old room or the couch.”

“No,” he shook his head while rushing off the bed and beginning to move across the room. Pacing. Molly tried not to grin too much but his fidgeting was different than what she had seen when he was coming down from a high in her kitchen a couple of years ago, the sheen that was beginning to resurface across his exposed skin did make her worry. His fever hadn’t gone down for too long. She wondered if it has been like this all day.

“Stay. Here.” He turned to her as he took a moment to turn, sit then get back on his feet and rush off across the floor again. He groaned. “This is frustrating.” He told her as he circled across again and went towards his bed only to stop again. She looked amused but there was something else also. He couldn’t tell what it was. He paused briefly trying to put his irritation aside to try to figure out Molly’s ailment.

He couldn’t focus long enough.

“Stay?” She mumbled.

“With me…in here. I’m restless.”

“No,” she shook her head. “You’re sick and irritated because you can’t do anything about it.”

“That’s quite obvious, Molly. Thank you.” His tone switched from the near calmness back to the edge that it got when he didn’t appreciate someone being idiotic in his presence. She did not give a damn.

She pushed to her feet and strode over to him as he started moving again and grabbed his hand. “Your attitude won’t make anything better so shut up and try to relax. I will sit over here.” She motioned to the chair that was left from a previous time when he was sick and Molly was the only one around to see to his ridiculous behavior. He seemed to read her other directions clear enough that she didn’t have to tell him to go and actually stay still on the bed.

He lay back and stared at the ceiling, taking long deep breaths. He knew he had pissed her off. He pissed most people off when he is on edge. At least she agreed to stay with him as he rode out the first night. There were more days ahead where she would have to be around him, but this one was the worst.

And it was. Sherlock tossed and turned trying to get comfortable on his sheets. He ended up completely stripping his bed and some point and Molly had to join him in order for him to get some sleep. The fact that a warm body was laying near him should have been off-putting and caused more discomfort for him but he wrapped a mitten-clad hand around her wrist and managed to get a couple of hours of rest, much to Molly’s delight.

The next morning when they were both awake. Molly first, with a shower and breakfast made for the detective who had felt cooler this morning so he slipped on his dressing gown when he joined her in the kitchen. Molly didn’t look well in the slightest. He eyed her as she sat across from him with a cup of coffee of her own. She was in shorts and a shirt. It was moderately cool in his flat and while he couldn’t feel it, he thought she’d at least have one of her ridiculously colored or patterned jumpers on. None were around her.

“Molly.” He started.

She was looking at her phone at some article on the web when she hummed, giving him a go ahead because she heard him.

“Are you feeling okay?”

She shrugged. “I guess so.” She tells him as she locks her phone and puts it back on the table. “How are you feeling?”

“Well I still have these,” he nodded down at the red blister-like lesions on his skin. “I feel warmer but I don’t feel as irritable.”

She beams at him. “That’s great! Maybe the next days could be easier.”

He hummed to himself as he watched her finish her coffee then she was back up and passing back into the kitchen. He took to eating the breakfast that she has made for him before joining her in there. She was washing dishes and he passed her his before he noticed something along her neck. She was abnormally red there.

He paused a moment before inquiring about her health again. It seemed to irritate her that he was asking again. “Sherlock, I told you I’m fine.”

They were about to do that dance again. The one that usually was on the opposite side. She trying to get him to tell her what’s troubling him and he eventually coming to grips with the fact that she may be the only one that would listen to everything before jumping down his throat about the negatives in his plan. However, this was different. There was no nemesis out for blood or his head, or her heart. This was just sickness and being open with everything laying on the table in order to get better. He really wanted to be better and to be able to reach out to Molly and say, “No, you’re lying but I’m going to sit here until you spill.” He decided not to go that far seeing as he felt overwhelmed and highly exposed but he did say this, “We’ll see.”

Then he left her alone to stretch out on his sofa with the coolness of the AC on and the mitts mixing with the skin that he began to attempt to claw at.

Molly stood in the kitchen with sopping wet hands and let out a sigh as she tried them and rubbed at her neck. She had forgotten the one detail when she agreed to go help Sherlock for the Watson’s. When she was younger it had been her brother who had gotten the illness not her.

Now she was stuck here slowly reverting into the same form as Sherlock Holmes but at least she could get started on the prep for what was to come. She peeked in on him before going for his bedroom to get her bag and go take a nice long hot shower, then maybe another soak in the tub. She should start to get the lesions pretty soon. It was going to be a rough first day for her and a bearable one for him if she had to guess.

Guessing isn’t something that she ever does. Not if she had to bet a life on it. So when she was done in the bathroom she called out for him to join her in his room where she sat in her unmentionables only with the nearly gone bottle of calamine lotion and another bottle at the ready once they were both done.

He came staggering in with the wild curls in odd directions and a sleepy expression on his face. He must have fallen asleep while she was preoccupied. He blinked at her, tilting his head when he saw her so bare in his bed like that but when she extended the bottle of lotion to him, he took a moment to assess her in full and he nodded.

“Idiot.” He told her, taking the bottle out of her hands. “You shouldn’t have come if you didn’t want to get sick. Or rather I should rephrase and say you shouldn’t have come at all knowing your medical history.”

She shuffled a little on the bed, knowing he was partly right but she didn’t care all that much. There wasn’t much she could do now about it. They were both in this together now. He helped her with the lotion, taking a moment to take off the mitts with his teeth and then he very carefully aided her in that before going to take a shower himself. Then she paid him back in kind.

The next days were a bit of a blur but it was filled with appearances by sock as mittens, and a delirious conversation about space and the brain, then Baby Watson for a little while, until suddenly they were playing a very unorthodox version of twister on the floor. Why Sherlock owned Twister, Molly still didn’t know.

They laughed about it as they also spent ample time resting back to back rubbing up against each other in a little dance to get the itch. It turned into a bit of a game after a while.

On Molly’s fifth day and Sherlock’s sixth and final day, they were found sprawled in the living room with as little clothes as they had been all week together by Mary, John, and Greg who took his phone out to snap pictures while the married couple stared and covered the babyface while smiling. “Perhaps we should have called Mrs. Holmes?” Mary said as they all settled down with Mrs. Hudson for a cuppa and some of her famous finger sandwiches.

Upstairs Molly and Sherlock were still sprawled out, completely knocked out but it was an image etched in the minds of their friends. At least they were soon to be their old selves again. That was a nice note to have.


	37. A Sure Bet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **1toooldforthisshit (previously aurimaedre)** asked: An idea for a prompt... _Each time Sherlock gets the courage to ask Molly out on a date/admit his feelings he gets interrupted by someone (Lestrade, Donovon/Anderson, John, Mrs. Hudson, even Mycroft) only to find out that they have placed bets on when he will confess and they are trying to make the others lose. Molly wins the bet :)_

**Originally posted on June 10, 2014**

* * *

 

He wasn’t exactly sure what caused him to want to do this exactly. Well, there were a few factors that played a part. He had known for a long time and he liked her more than he liked most people so that helped some things. It wasn’t exactly something he could say to her while they were working or anything. Nor could he just spring up want for dinner with her like that. He wanted to plan it but he also didn’t want her to think that he had spent too much time on it, though in his head he knew she deserved the time. 

There had been two cases thus far that he could have interceded and made her life a little easier by appeasing to her internal want to be by his side always (or most of the time). When she first introduced Jim to him. He had been thrown off guard by him at first and that was probably as to why it happened in that way. In the end, Molly ended up getting hurt because she had been dating a madman who then tried to have him and three of his closest friends killed along with him. At least she had broken off before, not that he thought that was exactly better. 

He did note at least a hundred times by now that in the end, this had aided her in that being targeted by Moriarty the first time. He had thought he didn’t like her as much as she liked him. It wasn’t an entirely lie, exactly. He found her endearing and smart which is at least half of the reason why he enjoyed working with her. The other part was that the felt that she made it a lot easier. She was a very accommodating scientist. She already knew of his accomplishments and that was always a good thing. 

She often called him on his bullshit and though sometimes he hated she could do that without thinking anymore, he liked it too. People often thought she was weak when it came to him but in truth, it was the other way around. He had never tried as hard as he had to with Molly Hooper. He certainly had never apologized to any of the other women he had roused into a false commitment. 

There hadn’t been many occasions for that either. He made it a point to not do that. Emotions - sentiment - it was all such a troublesome business that he had realized he couldn’t hide from forever. 

When having to sit through another conversation with his mum and dad about how unlike Mycroft he could manage a relationship and how much it would make them happy to see him happy with someone who wasn’t running behind him with a gun in hand - he had managed to not mention the incidents where Molly had a weapon of her own kind to protect herself in the lab and out when people tried to get to close and harm her or him. He hadn’t even mentioned Molly but it was clear someone had for his mother had mentioned her on the phone. “How’s that pathologist you visit at Bart’s?”

He had gritted his teeth and said something pleasant. He had been trying to stay clear of that way of thinking. However, they had brought it up. Then he saw this thing in the window of the antique shop that more or less made him want to run to her flat and say something very common like and reckless to boot. 

He had held back until two days later where the affair went south thanks to Lestrade coming in just as he had gotten her attention. He had sighed, remembering to thank Molly for her help with the cultures he had been inspecting for mold and dashing off to chase another murder case involving women no less. 

His second chance came the following week when they were alone again. Molly had been over with the Watsons every couple days to check on Mary. They were starting to get closer - another clue as to how much more time he would need to be spending with her if things didn’t pan out in the way he was hoping. 

He decided to walk her to the train station, after taking a cab. She was supposed to be going out of town to visit her mum. She sounded chipper as usual but he had noticed a little agitation in her posture when she mentioned it over dinner. Only when he was helping her into her coat John came over deciding that he needed him for something urgent and that it might take some time. 

Molly seemed to read the urgency, her brow furrowing as she told him to go ahead. “I’ll see you when I get back. Only three days this time. I’m about out of vacation now. I think Mike can sigh a little easy now. He wanted me to use most of them and I have so.” She trailed off awkwardly before going to say a final farewell to Mary and the baby before she dashed out.

“What is so urgent?” He huffed after Molly was gone. 

John smiled at him before beckoning him to the baby room. There were screws and bolts and things on the floor along with the wooden pieces he expected went with some furniture that hadn’t been put together yet. He groaned. “This couldn’t have wait until I got back from taking Molly to her train?”

“Why are you so insistent to do things for Molly nowadays?” John tutted as he hopped over some of the pieces so he could sit. 

Sherlock just glared at him as he ran a hand through his curly locks. “I’d rather try to figure this out. It’s less complex than Molly Hooper.”

“So she’s simplified then.”

Sherlock picked up the piece of paper that had the instructions on it. Ignoring John in the process as he looked it over. 

John smiled at his friend even though he wasn’t looking.

Sherlock didn’t waste too much time in trying to attempt number three. He picked Molly up from the train station. He had plans for them to get a bite to eat - he had already asked her. She hadn’t eaten on the train in one of the dining cars. He knew she wouldn’t. More than likely her mum had fed her up before sending her back home. 

He had read somewhere that was something that happened. He didn’t visit home enough to see for himself.

Only this time as he was getting ready to hail a cab for them he saw a black car - the black car that he only ever associated with his brother. Low, and behold there was an umbrella not too far off from it. “Surely, this is a better form of transportation brother?” Mycroft had smiled kindly at Molly as she looked like she wanted to laugh. 

Molly wasn’t that exhausted that she thought everything was funny but she was almost always amused whenever Mycroft popped up. Except for two different occasions. The Christmas that neither of them spoke of, then there was the call he gave her when Sherlock was going to his death via the airplane. Thank god that hadn’t panned through. She had managed to hold off crying until Sherlock had managed to rushed to her place the next day and she had hugged him. 

She had told him that she knew he didn’t do hugs often but she needed a little reassurance that she wasn’t having a Christmas Carol episode. He had just laughed and wrapped his arms around her slowly, whispering “I’m actually here, I promise.” 

Now as they followed Mycroft into his luxurious government facilitated car, Molly could feel the weird vibe that came from the two of them together. Where Mycroft looked to be as cheery as usual - she used that loosely, Sherlock looked to be ready to take a ride into Gloomsville. Molly sat there with her hands in her lap and waited for something to happen. 

“I found some information that you’ve been seeking. Tracking your whereabouts to hear made it a bit easier for me to hand it off except a friend of mine needs your help with something in return.”

She could feel the sigh as it rippled off of Sherlock next to her. “Which friend? I thought you didn’t have those?” Sherlock turned his gaze up at his brother. For a time he was staring at his hands as he tapped out a rhythm on his knees. 

“An acquaintance I should say. He enjoyed your time together working on that case in the Swiss Alps.” Molly looked over at Sherlock and saw as a small barely there smile came onto his face. He had realized who his brother was referring to. Molly did too and that’s why she spoke up.

“Is that why I’m also here to hear this?” Molly knew that Mycroft didn’t just keep people in the loop for nothing. 

“That and the information should be heard by the other piece of the puzzle that hasn’t been tampered with as of yet.” Molly shot him a confused look which had Sherlock leaning over to explain. “You were safe the last time." 

Sherlock wasn’t too plussed by the idea that Molly would be tagging along to see their mutual friend now that he knew his brother hadn’t ushered them in a car for nothing. Though this friend was a bit too close to Molly. He bit his tongue as they journeyed on and Mycroft explained what he knew. 

Many interferences found there to be a lack of time for discussing other matter but it was a nice trip. He would give Mycroft his props for not wasting his time during this period of time. 

The dam broke in the days after their time away from London. One last irritating person deciding that they would block his time to just get it all on the table and he lost it. 

At the time they were in the lab. Molly was working on an analysis for a body that had been brought in an hour ago and Sherlock had started his process of talking to her about the next step. “Most people probably would have started with dinner or something but I think I just need to do this now.”

"Do what?” She had asked, tilting her head up to look at him across from the other side of the table. 

The door opened and Donovan strolled in with a file already talking. “Hooper, I need your help with this case. The body is already downstairs and…” 

“Sally, could you give me a minute?” Molly had said but Sherlock was already heading towards the curly haired woman. “She’ll be down later. She’s busy at the moment.” he practically pushed her out the door. 

“Was that necessary?” she frowned at him.

“Everyone is in the way. I can’t focus with so many distractions. You’re enough." 

"Me?” Molly laughed. “What did I distract you from?”

Sherlock marched over to her, startling her a bit as he slid his arm around her shoulder and pulled her towards him before laying a hungry kiss on her mouth. Molly managed to push him away for one moment of air so she could tell him. “It took you longer than they thought.”

Sherlock had thought about ignoring what she said but it confused. “Wait, what?”

“They had a pool running to see how long it would take you to say it or ask me out? I guess you skipped a few skips but.”

“Who won then? And you knew?” He balked but didn’t’ step away from her. He didn’t want to move. Not yet. 

“Well, I wanted in. They wanted to make sure it was okay with me. I actually didn’t think you would ever do it but I said it would take you a month and a few days. Everyone’s was either too low or too high. I was right on the money though.” She giggled. 

“I should be upset…” He started and as she started to frown a bit he said, “but I’m not. It’s good that you know me so well or you’d have to pay a large sum wouldn’t you?”

She shrugged in his arms. “It’s worth it, I think. So when are we going on a date?”

“I thought I was supposed to be asking, Molly Hooper?”

She smiled, licking her lips. “I’m improvising.” 

He nodded before pressing his mouth against hers again. 

He could hear a camera flashing and a cry of “Nooo!” From outside the room but he didn’t care at the moment. Neither did she for she had settled for tugging at his curls. 


	38. The Art of Seduction (T)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **1toooldforthisshit (previously aurimaedre)** asked: _Three different times Sherlock tries to seduce Molly in different/interesting ways and fail. He reluctantly goes to John for help only for Mary to take over the conversation._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely one of the longer prompt fills. Yay!

**Originally posted on February 18, 2015**

* * *

 

While he might be known for his cleverness, Sherlock Holmes is also been called a complete moron on more than a handful of times by his closest of friends. Whether it concerns a case or matters of the heart (his heart) he is known to fumble and make a complete arse out of himself.

Three months into his almost good year (the arisen Moriarty is still in the shadows) and he’s begun tackling a new conundrum. This one something he has breached on a total of three times. One per person, or woman rather though there was the question of Victor during university. He always put that back on the shelf to review later when there wasn’t as much going on.

Molly, Irene, Janine, Molly. He comes back to Molly more times than not. He hasn’t had much time to really think too much into it. He knows that he feels affection for his friend in the morgue who understands the way his mind works more than anyone. As little involvement as he’s allowed her in the grand scheme of his life, he values her more than anyone else. Which means thinking on it a little more when he isn’t in a battle plan with Mycroft or looking after Mary while John is away - she looks after him more despite her growing belly or talking to John about the plans. Molly pops over now and again to see what’s going on and they share tiny conversations when all else is silent.

Feeling the silence is something that he hates and likes at the same time. If Molly wants to talk to him about a body that came in or share a piece of data that she drummed up in the lab he can’t bring himself to show indifference. He could in the past, finding something else to prattle on about or completely shutting her down and out but he likes when she talks mostly. Even when it’s the matter of trivial domestic life.

It’s something that he hears about from John or Mary. Their story isn’t exactly perfect but it’s something remarkable and admirable and he does love them both dearly. Mary likes to poke fun at the fact that he’s taking too long to find his her. As if there was another Mary around for him. Mary told him that he knows that there is and she’s very close and special in the way that he needs her to be.

Mary tried not to ever say Molly’s name in case the woman is around when they’re discussing his lack thereof a social/romantic life. It’s the way it’s always been for him. He’s never truly wanted to have anything like that. Friends became everything to him and now the child that is coming into the world will be the other good thing in his life. Yet, he does want something similar to what other people have. With a certain auburn-haired woman with a very morbid sense of humor.

Instead of strictly wanting to pursue that in the ways that are normal. Ask her out on date, share life stories, eventually bed. He merely wants to skip all of that and go straight for strike three. He’s gotten to know Molly several times over in the past five-plus years. He could do with not doing the extra necessities. He finds it much troubling figuring out the best way to go about this than the simple notion of asking her out for chips - which happened a year ago, Christ!

This is the better avenue for his sanity, he tells himself as he sits in the lab where Molly is now working on an analysis for Donovan who has become quite friendly with his pathologist. She glares at him whenever she enters the room but seems to not hate him as much anymore which he acknowledges with the barest of nods.

He looks over at her for a full two minutes before she looks up at him. He’s sitting almost directly across from her. He technically doesn’t have to be here. She could text him of any results that may pop up on his projects but he does like it here. Mycroft isn’t wrong about the second home in Barts. If he isn’t home he is or somewhere close by like a flat with an orange tabby by the name of Toby.

“Sherlock?”

He had originally shifted his gaze when she caught him looking but now she was giving him a gentle smile. ‘Is there something you need?”

It’s fairly easy for him to just say it. He said it to it before with a clean break. ‘You.’ He doesn’t say it though. It’s not strong enough, not for this. His eloquence isn’t subpar currently. He does choose to keep the conversation going regardless. “Not particularly. I’m admiring your handiwork.”

Molly colors and tucks her hair behind her hair. “Flattery is common with you yet I’m thrown off.”

“I’m slipping.” He frowns. “Will you be here much longer?”

She hums, looking back down at the slide for a second before replying to him as she hurriedly writes something down in her data log. “An hour or two. I have one last body to autopsy. Why?”

“No reason. Curious.” He mumbles before bidding her goodnight and leaving her to finish up. Molly looks after him with a look of intrigue. “What are you up to, Sherlock Holmes?”

Failed Attempt #1: The Belstaff

It’s always the bloody coat, he thinks as he skips-hops around in the cool air waiting for Molly in nothing but his prized possession. He’s had one cigarette which he had been off of for a good month and a half only to need it right now to steel his nerves.

He thanked the heavens for Mary Watson having to burst fiercely into John Watson’s path. He didn’t want to have to try to explain why he was full commando outside a residence. Not only anyone’s building but Molly’s. He could pretty much see him now and that was something that was making him very uncomfortable no matter how chill his whole body was at this point.

A couple of hours, she said. He had given her one before making his way here not entirely full nude but close. He changed nearby and due to the code restriction on her door and the fact that he had used everyone on the registry to try to gain entrance to her floor he wasn’t going to get in unless Molly was home.

Two hours roll by slowly to the point of pain and he finally gave up. Only, Molly did show up as he was leaving.

“Sherlock? What? Are you out of your mind?” She was coming at him with a speed only rivaled by his own mother. Running was possibly out of the question. He didn’t exactly like the idea of chafing, so it was out of the question regardless if he wanted to.

“No-well-no. I’m sane as ever, Molly.”

“Tell me you have clothes on under there or I swear.” She mumbled as she used her key to open the main door, pulling him in with her once she had it unlocked.

Sherlock couldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear so he stayed mum about it until she had pushed him into her flat and he just about fell over Toby who had been waiting by the door. “Damn cat.” He grumbled as he straightened himself as much as possible before turning around to see Molly just gawking at him.

“I don’t want to know. Your spare clothes are still where you left them.” Then she left him there shaking her head all the while walking down the hall to her bathroom to have a wash.

He sighed.

This was one of the things that needed to stay between the two of them.

Failed Attempt #2: The Great Game Debacle

Sherlock enjoyed a good game. It wasn’t surprising to anyone but as a rule between nearly all his friends, there were some games that he couldn’t play with them. Playing by yourself wasn’t something he enjoyed though so as an impromptu relaxing day off for both of them he invited Molly over for tea. He chose not to tell her that games would be involved knowing her hesitancy to do so.

They had played a few games before while he was ‘dead’. Card games, chess, but Molly drew the line at Cluedo. John had told her about that. Greg had joined in that night and it wasn’t something that he ever got to do again for obvious reasons.

Scrabble was a nice turn from that. There were no crime scene involved or suspects. It was just random letters and coming up with words. No harm in that. So, after he had served tea and offered her some finger sandwiches that Mrs. Hudson sent for them when she heard Molly was coming over. Molly’s favorite treat was among the platter and she snagged two pumpernickel wedges with slices of smoked ham and gouda cheese in the middle.

“You’re odd.” He mumbled, staring as she took her first bite of it. Molly just ignored him, sighing happily as she savored the taste. “I can only get these if I go back home so sue me if I get excited that your landlady made these special for me.”

“I don’t believe I said it was bad.” He said plopping a few crisps into his mouth.

Molly hummed, taking a few brief moments to finish her sandwich before looking back at him. “Soo…what’s the real reason that I’m here. There is another reason than tea, I think?” She questioned quietly.

She was dressed casual and had let her hair down today. She looked nice. He almost led with that but instead leaned back over the side of his chair and pulled the box from behind it.

When she had come in she hadn’t gone around the sitting area so the idea that she would find the stack of games that he had placed there earlier in the day didn’t concern him in the slightest. “I thought we’d play a game.”

Molly groaned for a moment before seeing which game he held in his hands. “Scrabble? Really?”

He grinned. “This isn’t about your suffering, Molly.”  _It’s for your pleasure_. He didn’t say that. Instead of getting to his feet and tossing a pillow on the ground, and then another on the opposite side. “Let’s begin.” He beckoned her forward.

It was fun, Molly had to admit. If you take a man who knew too much and a woman who was in the medical field and threw a bunch of letters at them you wouldn’t be too surprised at what they could come up with together. Words like: serum, secrets, lust, mortem, morgue were among a few along with a few choice medical jargon on Molly’s part that at times Sherlock tried to refute only for her to bring up the miniature sized med dictionary that she carried around at all times.

“You carry one of those around with you?” He mumbled as he looked at what he had now. One letter shy of his goal but he could make it work probably. He looked back up at Molly who was biting her lip as she seemed to be concentrating at her own hand.

“Hm, yes. It’s kind of like your magnifying glass. You carry that around out of need. Sometimes I need to familiarize myself with things or show people things to show that I’m not completely bonkers.”

He chuckled. “Who would think that?”

“People.” She shrugged before playing a word next to his shortest word on the board: yearn. The letters spelled out xylophone.

This was it. This was how he was going to wow her. Not that he hadn’t done that several times over. When he placed them – the s & e, perfectly with all the calm oozing off of him he expected something to happen.

She merely blinked at him before moving on. “Unexpected.”

“What?”

“That you thought of that word.”

No. This was not the route he thought this was going to go and he was trying to appear very neutral about it.

“Why not?” He let the syllables drop slowly from this mouth as he fiddled with his remaining letters. There wasn’t anything left in the bag, whatever happened was down to what they each had on them. This spoke for both circumstances – in the game and out of it.

“You got weird that one time when I mentioned it.”

“So?”

“Nothing.” She chuckled. “It’s just a word, Sherlock.”

He was silent as they finished it off. He could have probably gone about that more clearly but Molly had been thinking of not him in that respect.

“Thank you.” He stated as he walked her down the stairs.

“You asked me over for tea and we ended up playing a game. I’m supposed to be thanking you for the evening. It was a nice time. So, thank you.”

“Wasn’t what I was expecting…” He said lowly to himself.

“What do you mean?” Foot caught, he blundered but just brushed a hand through his hair before saying the first thing to come to mind.

“I had something in mind. Don’t worry. It’s fine.”

Molly noticed how clipped his sentences were becoming and that was the absolute sign that it was anything but fine. “Did I do something wrong?”

 _It’s not your fault, Molly. I’m not being clearer apparently._ “Of course, not. I’m thinking too much as I do. I’ll see you soon.” He pecked her on the forehead before she slipped out with a small smile on his face.

He let out a groan before stomping back up the steps to his flat and letting the door slam shut behind him. He sighed, crossing over the table to the couch and settled onto it as he did often when he wanted to think properly.

He could smell her still. She always smelt so sweet, even when she was in the morgue. It was this sign that he hadn’t realized for a long time. Even in death she is there bringing her own cheery attitude and silent smiles. Bringing joy to the dread. It’s something he admires. He could probably show her in many lights as to why he finds that delightful but he wants to touch her in ways that words can’t express. Flesh against flesh and as he delves back into his mind to shift through another option his phone rings.

**WATSON**

It could be either of them or both. It was rare that it was both. One of them called at least once in the day to check up on him and they had been checking up on him regularly since his infatuation with the idea that he wanted to bed Molly. Not that he had directly expressed the idea to either of them but perhaps it might help.

“I’m on my way. I need to talk to you.”

“Which one?” He heard John say even as he was slipping on his coat.

“Does it matter?” Then he hung up.

When Sherlock arrives the door is around open, Mary is standing in the doorway with a smile on her face.

“What’s going on, Big Child?” She jokes as she follows him to the couch where John is waiting for him.

“Molly.”

“Be specific, Sherlock.” John chuckles.

“I’ve failed to seduce her two times already.”

“You tried to seduce Molly?” Mary giggles.

“I think so. She didn’t seem interested though.”

John opens his mouth to ask something only for Mary to sit on him and begin talking hurriedly. “Are you sure you were doing it right? You aren’t exactly good at human things.”

Sherlock huffed but relayed what he had done and it was a bit more than plussed when both Watsons were laughing. “You have no idea how to seduce someone. I mean okay you may have had a run with The Woman before, Molly isn’t just going to let you take her anywhere. You have to be like John.”

“Oh for christ’s sakes, why am I the example?” John shouted only for Mary to elbow him and gesture down the hall to where their daughter was sleeping. “Sorry.” He apologizes.

“Regardless, you are a romantic dear. Sherlock isn’t complete rubbish at it seeing as he has asked her out on a fair share of occasions but he has to get better at this. In order to properly have Molly Hooper in all the ways, he desires currently. Wait…” She paused getting off of John and inching closer to Sherlock, “You aren’t planning to just fuck her and that be it if so I refuse to help you and I might actually kill you for thinking that that was going to go well over after everything she’s done for you. You do care for her?” She questioned as Sherlock carefully pushed the assassin's hand away from poking him right in the chest.

“Immensely. The other stuff is boring.”

“Thanks.” Mary sighed. “Okay, well you have to do some of it and I’m sure once you hit it with the ground running that you’ll be fine. By hit it, I do not mean well you know. I mean everything that you want should follow as long as you follow these guidelines….”

“I expect some sort of indication that all went well,” Mary told him as she led him out.

It went well.

It was a simple night. Dinner followed by a walk to burn off some of the wine and then he led her into a cab where Molly initiated something. A kiss on the cheek which he hurriedly turned his head for and took to pulling her on his lap and down so that he could snog her properly.

The “do you want to come up” came as Mary suggested that it would and they had sex. In several different places. He would not be telling Mary about that. There were some things that needed to stay between people.

The following morning he woke to Molly trailing her fingertip in patterns down his abdomen.

“Morning.” He rumbled, as she looked up at him. She smiled at him before climbing up to kiss him softly. “I knew what you were doing.” She told him as he bent down to kiss her a second time in this new day.

“Hm?”

“I didn’t exactly get the Belstaff, until Scrabble and the word. SEX. I just didn’t wrap my head around it until you kissed me in the cab.”

“It took you longer than I expected.”

“Your faith in me is sweet.” She flicked her eyes up and down. “Do you think we…”

“YES!” He practically yelled before rolling her over. They could have completely fallen off if he didn’t know where exactly they were. Molly giggled, “Eager are we?”

“You kept me waiting long enough.” He chuckled, forgoing her mouth to something that he could hold and suck among other things.


	39. Childish Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **paulthomasquells** asked: _A child of one of Molly's colleagues is waiting outside of the morgue for her mother to pick her up and Sherlock is irritated when Molly is distracted by her._

**Originally posted December 4, 2013**

* * *

 

Molly had stepped out to the canteen to grab some more coffee, she had been here since last night helping one of her colleagues with a rush of tests for one of the major cases in the city which Sherlock surprisingly was not involved in. DI Dimmock was though and after getting through all of that work she spent a little time down in the canteen taking a small break with a little bite to eat and a warm cup of coffee. 

It was rather enjoyable up until the point where she was interrupted by her phone which was beeping quite a lot for it to be just a text message. She slid it out of her trouser pockets and flicked her finger over the screen. Sherlock was calling her. Calling actually. This didn’t happen too often unless he was in dire need of something. That varied in what was actually an emergency and what she liked to call an “I’m bored let’s discuss something” emergency. She had been on the receiving end on both though the latter had lessened as a late as he had been working much more ever since he had returned. It had almost entirely stopped which gave her the clue that this had to be a work call.

“Sherlock, hello.” She mumbled as she got to her feet to throw away the wrapper of the small treat she had gotten from the vending machine. It was full of sugar. She needed anything that could keep her up for the few hours she had left of her shift. “Molly. I’ve been texting you for precisely forty minutes and you haven’t picked up, resulting in me having to ring you. Are you in the morgue?”

“No. Just finishing a break. I might not have been getting the messages up here. Funnily enough, service is better in the morgue or the lab.” She giggled as she went to refill her cup while she had the chance. 

Sherlock was quiet for a minute, the only thing Molly could decipher was that he was probably running in a rush. Definitely a case. She hoped he didn’t drop his phone where ever he was. She could hear him breathing. “Well, let’s go to the morgue. I need to look at the new bodies that were sent about half an hour ago. Pressing case.”

Molly whipped around and sighed, ending the call. She took a sip of her coffee while she thought about whether she wanted to deny him right now. She could use another five minutes of sitting in the silence of the canteen. Few people were around right now. “Fine.” She told him and strode over to him. He placed a hand on her shoulder and started to discuss with her the matters of the case. He had found out early on that she enjoyed when he rambled about his work. It had this almost soothing mechanism when it came to Molly. He found it fascinating.

He knew she had been here for quite some time so he wanted to hurry it along so that she could go home. He did care for her health at least. She was walking at a slower pace than usual which was why he went to guiding her along with his hand wrapped around her shoulder. It was just faster this way; easier even.

When they made it to the morgue, they were stopped however when Molly saw a little girl standing in the way of the double doors that led into the room. It took her a moment but she realized that this was Doctor Lewis’ daughter. “Hello.” Molly stepped out in front of Sherlock. His hand dropping to his side as he watched Molly walk over to the child. She had a small coat wrapped around her tiny frame with a lime green scarf settled around her neck. She wore a skirt and tights and military boots. Sherlock's eyebrows rose in curiosity momentarily at the sight of the child. What child wore boots like that?

Molly was talking to the young girl. She wasn’t more than ten years old but she seemed well acquainted with his pathologist. “Oh, do you want me to see if she’s inside?”

“No. She said she was coming up from the babies. There was a friend of hers that wanted her to come down to check over her husband. She is a pathologist though, I don’t see how that would help her husband.” Sherlock couldn’t see the girl’s face but it was clear that she was as befuddled by the situation as Sherlock was with the one that he was faced with now. He wanted to get inside the morgue but there was this problem standing directly in front of his desire.

He knew how this would go too because he knew Molly. She was going to propose that she stay out here with the girl until her mother arrived. Molly was the type of person who couldn’t stand for children being unattended in a large space. Bart’s was rather large in fact but it seemed this was the designated meeting point for the mother and child.

Molly did not disappoint him. She turned to him for a moment then back to the girl. “Um…Sherlock, maybe you should go ahead inside, I should wait out here with Marie.” He could detect the underlying words she wasn’t saying, “I’ll be worried if I leave her out here.”

Sherlock feigned a smile as he joined her at the door and peered down at the girl. “Would you mind moving?” He paused, “Please.” Marie scooted over a little, her arms folded as she eyed the tall man. She didn’t like him. She had seen him before but she didn’t really find him all that interesting. But she could tell that Molly did which was why she spoke quickly as Sherlock opened the door. “I could go in with you so that you won’t be waiting for my mother and not able to help Mr. Dark Scary Face here with whatever he needs from you. You could text my mum, couldn’t you?”

Marie looked hopeful for this to happen and Molly seemed to not see what Sherlock did as he huffed and strolled into the morgue fully. She was trying to annoy him on purpose. Why did children think it was all a game? There were important matters that needed to be discussed behind the walls of the morgue. 

“The morgue isn’t really a place for children…but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” Molly conceded opening the door and ushering the young girl in. Marie looked about the morgue with little interest before waiting for Molly to follow her in. Molly pulled out her mobile within seconds and shot out a text to Dr. Ellyse Lewis.

**Marie is in the morgue. She said you were meeting her outside but I thought better to keep an eye on her for you. - Dr. Hooper**

“There we go!” Molly beamed before directing Marie over to a stool that was as far away from the slabs as possible. Sherlock watched her quite annoyed at how long this was taking. He knew that it was only going to take longer the more time it took for Dr. Lewis to come down and retrieve the child. Children were distracting, especially to Molly.

He knew how much she cared about them. Even wanted one of her own. She never mentioned it but he had heard a particularly nasty conversation with her mother once when he had been raiding her kitchen for something to eat in between cases. “Stay there, please. I’ll just be a moment then if I’m done before your mum gets here we can go down to find her ourselves, sound good?”

Marie smiled at the pathologist nodding as she turned around to walk over to the slabs and begun pulling out two of them that had been stored while she was away. She would need to do an autopsy but she didn’t think now was the right time to try to do one. They had a bit of a problem here.

“I won’t be able to do the autopsy right now.” She began looking at Sherlock who was inspecting the hand of one of the corpses. A woman who had to be close to her mother’s age. “Why not?” He asked as he moved around to the other side where Molly was standing. She probably should have moved towards the feet to be out of his way but she was inspecting the bodies around as well.

“Marie is here. I can’t go slicing open bodies when there is a child present. That’s just wrong, Sherlock.”

“I really need this to be done, Molly.” He trained his gaze on her. He was giving her that look. The look that she hated because it still kind of worked on her. She shook her head at him. “No. Sherlock. I’m not going to do this now. You will have to wait.”

“The more waiting the more time you’ll have to spend on your feet and not in your bed getting a deserved night’s rest.”

Molly wrinkled her nose at him as she turned to him and pushed him in the chest. “Don’t you do this, Sherlock Holmes. You’re not going to get your way because I happen to be sleep deprived and easily swayed at this point in time.”

“At least you admit it.” He chuckled but peeked over her shoulder at the child. “Hey! You shouldn’t be touching that.” He called over to the child. She had one of the jars of organs that were splayed behind glass near the wall she was supposed to be sitting in.

Molly rushed over and tried to get Marie to sit back down but she seemed rather inquisitive about the organs. It was something that you were used to seeing in kids much younger but here the girl was driving a bit of a wedge between Sherlock’s investigation and Molly’s need to watch over a child that was not hers.

Sherlock groaned.  He listened as Molly described a few of the organs and wherein the body they were and named a few of their functions. Marie was really starting to irk his nerves but it seemed Molly didn’t mind having someone to talk to about these things. She could talk to him of course but it was usually preoccupied and not in the mood to discuss things. He had talked to her before but now he needed her to do her job and this kid was in the way.

By the time Molly had gotten to the brain which was about four windows down from the spleen which was what she had started off Sherlock had grown enraged. He quickly strode over to try to pull her away from the girl and try to placate her into doing what he required. However, when he attempted this Molly swatted his hand away and went back to amusing Marie. 

Marie just giggled at him as he ruffled his curls in one hurried swoop. She was enjoying this - all of this. 

Fifteen minutes more of this and he would probably do something drastic. He didn’t have to thankfully enough by the twelfth minute as the door opened and a woman with glasses rushed through it wearing a lab coat and a bag over her shoulder. 

“Molly! Oh gosh, I’m really sorry to have made you wait with her. Thank you for amusing her for a bit. I probably could have come down and got her sooner but Winston had so many questions about his condition and I had to help Doctor Wilson with all of it. Phew, but thank you so much. You’re a dear.” She swung Molly into a hug which she accepted with a little giggle.

All of this was like music to his ears. The anticipation of having his pathologist back to himself was something he was greatly appreciated. Molly pecked the woman’s cheek before turning to Marie and ushering her towards her mother. “She has an inquisitive mind. It was fine. Have a good night.” Molly said as they filed out of the morgue.

Molly gave them one last smile before turning to Sherlock. He was literally right behind her at this point and she oohed before she collides with him. His hands reached out to steady her as she swayed. “Wow, you look a bit hazy.” She was swaying a bit.

Sherlock sighed. “I think I should get you home. I rather have you not slice your hand open by accident than you try and miss something important.”

Molly pecked him on the mouth as she giggled. “You’re a dear.” 

Sherlock colored as he swallowed, clearly not expecting that quick little gesture of affection. “Right. Let’s get you home. We can come back tomorrow and get this done.”

Molly nodded spinning around again and heading out the door with Sherlock trailing behind her. If he mentioned the fact that she had kissed him, she would blame it on the lack of sleep. That’s what it was, that’s what she would tell herself. 

In truth, she just wanted to do that to get him to shut up for a tick. 


	40. Oh, Sweet Talker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **aurimaedre** asked: _Sherlock can’t sweet talk Molly into doing what he wants._

**Originally posted on December 22, 2013**

* * *

 

There were many things that Sherlock Holmes had to relearn about life and the people in it that he held with high esteem upon his return to London and the living. One of which involved him realizing that trying to compliment his way into getting his pathologist to drop her plans for the weekend with her family who she hadn’t seen in quite some time was not something that was acceptable.

It was this instance that formed a slight wedge between them because he couldn’t take the hint that she wasn’t going to just drop whatever she was doing that she deemed important and not easy to cancel in order to do his bidding.

This was the third time in this day where she was geared up over her sixth autopsy of the day that she found herself in the company of the consulting detective and while the first time he had offered to bring her coffee for an entire month and take care of Toby while she went on a spa retreat as payment. Despite how tempting it had sounded to the hunched over the tiny woman she kept her head about it and sighed while saying no.

The second occurrence was right after her lunch break which he had more or less sat with her for - not eating of course but sitting at the table with a cup of coffee that stayed untouched much to the waitresses annoyance each time she came back hoping to refill it only to take it away after the second pass by as she checked on Molly who was eating, thankfully. This time Molly was over a ten-year-old boy who had been killed in an accident when his parents had thought he was at a friend’s house. He had been running from someone and that’s when he had been knocked down by a vehicle in the late night.

This was already an issue in itself. It was never easy for Molly or most pathologists to deal with slicing open a child. It took a lot out of a person and Molly was not to be excluded but Sherlock failed to keep this in mind despite his knowledge of her discomfort with this part of her work. It mattered not how young a child was it still caused her pain. Unspeakable pain.

Which was why as she took out the boy’s heart for weighing she begun to grow furious at Sherlock as he began to inquire again about her joining him on this excursion for the weekend - it was a case, she had known that. He didn’t do the personal time that involved taking someone out to some unknown place if it wasn’t for a work reason. This was just not his area. He pressed another reward she would get seeing that she helped him out because he needed her.

While she nearly stopped all movements after reciting a new find on the internal cavity of the body after hearing him tell her that he needed her she did not cave. Not even when he proposed they go to a wine tasting. He had noted her love of wine. Of course, he did!

She sighed, covering the body up as she slipped off her gloves and the mask that was covering her face and tossing them in the bin before leaving him there. She didn’t really like what might come out of her mouth if she verbally decided to berate him. She feared it might involve her hitting him repeatedly while crying and shouting at him. All of which he deserved at this point but instead she decided to just leave him there.

He did find her back in the morgue a few hours later having finished the last of her autopsies, washing her hands slowly. He had become familiar with a few things she did that gave him a signal of things he should do and not do. He had gone back over his meetings with her today, especially the last and realized how upset she had already been before he started badgering her for the second time that day.

He knew he had to apologize so I waited for her to finish drying her hands and turn to him before he followed through with his third and final proposal. “I am sorry.” He started.

Molly blinked at him for a moment, her hands tucking in her coat pockets as she watched him, waiting for him to proceed with what he was trying to say. “I know I’m not your favorite person right now which is unusual since you enjoy my company most times but I feel it's only…right that I apologize for my behavior. However,” Molly sighed and shook her head at him before striding over to him with purpose.

“Listen to me, Sherlock Holmes. I don’t care how much you need an assistant to help you in a case but I’ve already told you several times today that I can’t be that person this time. John is with Mary and I understand how much you need him, he’s your friend and he is someone you are used to bending to your will to get what you want. I can no longer be bent that way, no matter how many wonderful rewards you try to throw my way with the added bonus of your company afterward. It just won’t happen. I don’t want the spas or the wine or the bloody night out in a foreign land that I will probably never go to again just to aid you in your work.”

He cut in before she could begin to poke him in the chest, her gestures were pretty wild and so was how loud her voice was getting before he decided to intercede. “It was dinner actually…with me.”

Molly stopped for a moment. “Doesn’t matter. Sherlock, I haven’t seen my family in a long time and I wish to. If you paid any attention to dates you would know why I can’t just not go to be with them this weekend either. It is important to me. I’m sorry to disappoint you but maybe you can go at this alone, yeah?”

Sherlock watched her for a brief moment. She looked like she was about to cry but he couldn’t figure out if it was because of him or not. He filed it away to be dissected later as he gave her a slow nod. He didn’t leave yet. He took her by the shoulders and pressed his mouth at her forehead before stepping back and leaving her there with another apology leaving his lips. This time he meant it.

When Molly saw him again, she felt a combination of things. Anger, disappointment, panic, and confusion. He had come to her at her great aunt’s house where she had been staying for the weekend. It was Saturday and she had felt happy to be around her family. There weren’t many of them left but she appreciated them more than anyone else for they understood what she went through.

Sherlock showing up here had tipped her balance on what she could handle emotionally this weekend but when he began talking before she could get a work out she found clarity. “I should have known it was about your father. I have never truly got along with mine but you’ve told me of his importance previously. I had made plans for the first time outside of work with you but I couldn’t tell you that because I wanted it to be a surprise. However, I do understand why you were so adamant about saying no. Family is considered important to most people.” He paused briefly, she watched the way he seemed to struggle with what he wanted to say. Molly figured he had most of that planned up until this point.

“I feel it’s only right to compromise given the situation. I would like to join you in the remaining of your weekend with your family as a true apology for any hardships I have caused while also gaining insight into the other side.”

“The other side?” Her brows furrowed as she smiled at him slightly.

“The loving family part.”

Molly realized a lot of things when he revealed that. Sherlock wasn’t used to seeing people so genuinely affectionate in a family setting and the other that he decided that he wanted to spend this time with her. There was never any case, he just needed her company for his own selfish reasons that she was entirely clueless about but now it was starting to come together.

She swallowed before reaching out and taking his hand. “C’mon then.”

 


	41. Truth, Dare, Pudge (Drunk Sherlock)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **archdukefranz-ferdinand** [deactivated :() asked: _"Truth or Dare, Pudge." "Dare." "Hook up with me." sherlolly_

**Originally posted on January 19, 2014**

* * *

 

The first time Molly witnessed a drunk Sherlock alone was on the eve of Christmas two years after his return from death. He had slipped into her kitchen window along with a struggling Greg Lestrade who looked like he would have fallen if Molly hadn’t have been there to make sure he didn’t hit his head on her sink or when he made his way off the counter to plop down on two shaky legs.

Sherlock Holmes, on the other hand, had already made his way around the corner and into her living room where surprisingly enough she had company in the form of her already tipsy cousin, Merida. Sherlock seemed to latch onto the idea of someone to deduce in his drunken state and immediately decided to try so even though he was on a path to knocking over some of the most delicate pieces of furniture Molly possessed.

If it wasn’t for her quick motions to get Greg into a chair in the exact same room she feared what would have transpired. Sherlock, in turn, was already practically leaning over the woman with a slight smile on his face. Molly didn’t think that was supposed to be there. Not at this point in time. If anything he was probably trying to smirk but he was a bit inebriated at this point in time.

Molly slid over to him quickly and hoisted his arm over her shoulder calling out to him. “Sherlock, how much have you to drink?”

“Whaat…Moooolly, I don’t know what you’re saying!” His hand sliding to pull her into his side. “Fancy a little game, Hooper?” He said leaning down to her cheek trying to whisper in it the place he thought it was her ear. It was not this but instead, his mouth was practically flicking against her cheek.

“A game? Sherlock, you’re in no condition for any sort of game.” She told him as she tried to push him over to her only vacant seat; the sofa where she had been seating previously. He only seemed to lean against her and not budge. 

It seemed even when he was loopy and disoriented he seemed to grasp the idea that she was his only support for standing and perhaps he didn’t want to sit all that much. “Please, sit down Sherlock. You’re making a fool out of yourself.”

“Foool? Me, no, you’ve been mistaken Missss ‘ooper. That man you were attached, he was a rather large fool.”

“Sherlock.” Molly gritted her teeth before she reached up a smacked him hard in order to try to get some sort of normal reaction out of him. It seemed he still didn’t know how to shut his mouth even when he was completely off his wagon. 

She soon found herself agreeing to his earlier request to play a game. “Fine, what kind of game are you proposing?” 

Proposing - she probably should have used a different word given how he was just then trying to get into a heated discussion about Tom. 

“Ah. How about an oldie but goodie. Well,” He paused briefly as he looked about the room at the other two spectators among them. “for children I suppose. Truth or dare, yes?" 

Molly gave him a look that more or less read her disbelief over his idea that truth or dare was a good idea when he was in this position. Molly decided for once that this might be a relatively good idea. 

She nodded at him which seemed to make him a bit more eager as he moved around Molly to finally take his seat on the couch. Molly twirled around to see both Merida and Greg in a very interesting position not together. Merida was peered over her glass of wine with her arms wrapped around her legs as she at Sherlock and up to her while Greg was dozed off in the chair. 

Molly shook her head at Greg while taking Merida glass away. She felt like she had suddenly become the caretaker of three very mature yet childish adults who decided to go out for drinks without her and suddenly she had to pick them all up and bring them somewhere to rest until they slept it off. This was worse, she imagined, yep - she told herself this was definitely worse. 

At least one of them had already decided to sleep it off. Now, the challenge of getting the other two to agree to it. That could spell trouble. “Who’s going first?” Molly inquired turning her attention back to Sherlock as he patted for her to come to sit next to him. It was arguably the only seat she could have taken so she did so quietly before Sherlock said that he would go first and so the game began.

For about four rounds each of them took truths with an odd dare in rare occurrence up until the point Sherlock had decided Molly had to take a dare as only Merida had been the only one to do so! “What do you want then, Mister Holmes?”

"A very simple request, my dear pathologist.” He sang in his silky lower baritone. His eyes nearly catching her off guard as his hand came up to take her face in his hand. “Yes?” She inquired. She for her part tried to keep her heart from thudding out of her chest for the most part, as he inclined his head closer to her. Merida was still in their presence and giggling at what she was seeing.

Just mere hours ago she had been discussing with Molly how simple it should have been for her to jump Sherlock Holmes’ bones. She would be thrilled at the sight of the said man leaning close to the woman who had longed for his company for years on end only to get it in copious amounts when she really didn’t exactly need it but she enjoyed it all the same. 

Tonight, however, she was gravelly unsure. His eyes were cloudy with the haze of being completely gone from the world yet his request as he so adeptly put it was anything but unclear. He was sure of it yet Molly was confused. “How about we hook up…”

No, that couldn’t have been what he said. Nope. That sounded so wrong coming from his lips though he must have some source of deducing capabilities still working through the cloudiness for her continued on as if he could see that she wasn’t truly understanding him and he’d be correct of course. “You know, a shag? What normal people do with people they’re attracted to people. Youuuu…” He stopped, his clarity seemed to disintegrate as he went to stand up missing her hand in his voyage of wanting to whip her up to her feet, grabbing her wrist instead. He continued briefly after, “Have longed for my company for far toooo long. Quite simple.”

“You’re drunk, Sherlock.” Molly insisted, cutting her eyes over to Merida who was only seeming to get more egged on by this strange happening the more she sat and looked on. “Nope. This isn’t going to happen tonight.”

“Tomorrow then?”

“No!” Molly sighed in frustration before moving to take her wrist out of his gentle grasp and beginning to push him back towards her bedroom but stopping short and pushing him into her bathroom. “You’re staying in here tonight and don’t even think about coming out. I doubt you have the patience to try to unlatch the lock at this hour. You’re not thinking too clearly.”

She made sure he was safely in her shower, the water wasn’t turned on but she thought about giving him a very rude awakening the morning should she feel pleasant enough after he interrupted her night in and said what he said. 

For good measure, Molly placed a chair under the door should he try to get out of it in a few hours. She would check on him when he was brighter outside. They would need to try to talk about what transpired when he was sober and more aware. For now, he could stew and yell all he wanted about how unfair she was being. “HOOPS. YOU CANNOT LEAVE ME LIKE THIS.” 

He had even gone so far to shorten her last name. That was not cute nor was it anything close to normal for Sherlock Holmes. She couldn’t even feel giddy about that either. It was just wrong.

So, after getting her cousin into her own bed and sitting with Greg for a few hours just to be sure he wouldn’t wake up she took to the sofa and a few hours of sleep.

…

The next morning when Sherlock Holmes woke up he felt cold and it wasn’t because of a draft. Molly Hooper had turned the shower on him. He was still in his coat too! “Molly, you can stop now?”

“Do you know what you said last night?”

“I requested to have a nice shag with you and you declined.”

“How on earth do you remember such things?” Molly groaned as she shut the water off and tossed him a towel before waltzing out of her bathroom and into the kitchen where she made breakfast and a steaming hot cup of coffee. 

Sherlock Holmes was very lucky to have Molly Hooper in his life. He couldn’t say John would have been so nice and accommodating when he came home drunk. Which was part of the reason why he had decided that Greg needed to choose a pub near to the pathologist’s place? “I wasn’t entirely drunk, Molly.”

“I remember the stag night, Sherlock. You were absolutely wasted.”

He didn’t say anything but took his coffee not even having to ask if she did it right. He knew she would and for her reward he pecked her on the forehead.

“I am sorry for barging in on your night but I am grateful that you didn’t kick me out. I could have ruined Baker Street in my state.”

“I am so delighted to have seen that. By the way, Greg was out when you go to the shagging bit so you don’t have to worry about videos.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong.” Merida came giggling with her hair tumbling all over her face as she grabbed a piece a toast off the plate Molly had just sat it down.

“You didn’t.” Molly started.

“She did and I might have to call up her fiancee to tell him about a discrepancy should she decide to do anything with it that would prove to be distasteful to me or your reputation.” Sherlock was smiling and Molly couldn’t help but laugh when she heard the small gasp from her cousin before she walked over to Molly and whispered lowly. “I can see why you like him. He’s awfully protective yet sexy at the same time when he’s dangerous. Roar!" 

Sherlock sat smirking from behind his cup of coffee as he had definitely heard that. 


	42. Liquid Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **anonymous** asked: _When Molly shows up at 221B in tears, she's hoping for Mary or Mrs. Hudson to talk to about her insecurities. Instead, she gets Sherlock._

**Originally posted on January 19, 2014**

* * *

 

It wouldn’t surprise anyone should Molly Hooper decide to have a nice cry within the safely closed doors of her office within Bart’s or perhaps even in her own home but it was a different matter at all when she did so openly. Especially when unexpectedly finding herself in the companionship of one Sherlock Holmes. Most importantly because she had been slightly trying to avoid such a thing from happening. Mostly due to everything that had gone on and things that had not gone on in the space of the past year since he had been around again. 

It was partly his decision to distance himself from meddling in her affairs that seemed to wreak havoc in the young woman’s life. It was stupid, she knew it and she had been trying to move past everything that came with the idea of him and whatever it was that he saw of how he wanted to fit into that. However, Molly hadn’t had a clue how to deal with that. She had been doing so well. 

With her engagement broken off, she was feeling much more vulnerable and upset about things and feeling low about herself along with what could have been if she could have stopped her longing thoughts about Sherlock. She couldn’t say that it was entirely about that but a large part of it was due to her continuing existence alongside him even if it was only minimal.

She needed someone to talk to about things. She wanted Mary or Mrs. Hudson or perhaps John, he would have been ten times better than what she found when she entered into Baker Street in the early hours of the evening sniffling and teary-eyed. “Hullo?” She asked swallowing the moisture that gathered in her throat as she began to walk along the hall that didn’t venture up the stairs to the consulting detective’s flat. 

She didn’t hear anything from within Mrs. Hudson’s flat. Nor could she hear any other female voice coming from any other portion of the flat. She did, however, get ready to almost decide to go back out and take a walk on her own because it would be better than just standing inside an empty flat with no one to talk to. However, the sound of the door opening from the upstairs flat had her turning around and getting surprised when she saw Sherlock standing.

“Molly…” He said, before coming down to meet her. He was in his dressing gown she noticed as he came to stand in front of her. He kept his hands tucked in his trouser as he seemed to give her a once over. “Mrs. Hudson is out with the girls as she calls it. Mary is with John obviously. You’ll have to deal with my company I suppose.”

“You make it seem like I hate you.” She muttered, as he turned back around without saying another word and walking back towards the staircase. His hand poised against the railing as he went to take the first step when he turned his head back around so that he could see her as he replied, “No. You may not like me at times but you have never hated me. You’ve never truly hated someone to the point of murder so why should I worry about that.” He gave her a half smile before turning back and beginning to walk back up to his flat. “Coming, Molly?” He asked as he got halfway up to it.

Molly sighed, she couldn’t just leave now, couldn’t she? He was all alone and he most likely wouldn’t really know what to do with her once he figured out why she was her in the first place. It couldn’t hurt much, could it? 

She let out another sigh before joining him up in his flat and taking a seat in the other chair. It was a new chair she noticed. “What happened to John’s chair?”

“Gave it away.” He muttered, training his eye on her for a brief moment before going back over to the wall where he had the map of London posted on it. There wasn’t any pins in it or any data of some sort so he wasn’t on a case. What was he doing then? 

“I imagine John wasn’t too happy about that.”

“He doesn’t live here anymore, why should he care? Regardless, that’s not why you’re here.”

“Obviously…” Molly said quietly as she began to mess with a loose thread that was on the sleeve of her long-sleeved blouse. 

Sherlock shot her a look from over his shoulder. “You don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“That would be weird,” Molly told him as she got to her feet and began to inspect the skull on his mantelpiece. It was an odd thing that she felt a bit more steady when she had some sort of piece of the body to study. She had held this skull before of course and knew all about it but she felt better with it in her hands. She took her time to name the bones in her head as Sherlock continued to speak with her as if she wasn’t preoccupied with something else even if only slightly.

“Why? Because it concerns me.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything if you just decide to read it off me, Sherlock.”

“I can only read what you want me to, Molly.”

“Not true.” She took in a deep breath as she turned the skull over. Sherlock had moved to stand a few meters behind her. “You read me just fine.”

“Not exactly accurate. Been making an attempt to try not to observe you too much.”

“Oh?” She placed the skull back in its place before turning around to look at him. 

Sherlock didn’t say anything to that. It only made Molly more curious about why he decided it was better to let her be. He could have chosen to do that long before now. What had changed? 

“We’re friends, aren’t we Molly?” Sherlock was looking down at the floorboards as he began to walk up and down in a straight line. 

“Of course, Sherlock.”

“Then talk to me.”

“Just because someone is friends with someone doesn’t mean they can just start spewing details about their lives to each other. It’s not that simple, especially not with you.”

“Am I an exception then, Molly?”

“I suppose so in a way.” She folded her arms and begun to walk out of his sight. “You’ve always been the exception though haven’t you?”

“Because you harbor feels for me.”

“That’s a given, though.” She paused. “I still don’t feel comfortable talking to you about it.”

Sherlock huffed. “Would a little liquid courage help you?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Mister Holmes?” Molly smiled at his back, giggling a little.

“Wasn’t my intention really.” He smirked, stopping mid-stride. “Not entirely.” He added quietly but Molly heard him anyways.

“Do you have any wine?”

“There might be a little left.” He moved towards the kitchen then taking her inquiry as a yes. Molly went back to the chair and sat down, kicking off her shoes in the process and curling up on it. 

She didn’t know why she had agreed to drink with him right now. She didn’t see why he was even trying to get her to talk. Not about this. It didn’t make too much sense but perhaps she would talk a little about it.

A little might have been the wrong collection of words to describe it. Sherlock had decided to throw a reward for every little thing she discussed with him even when she had barely started drinking wine. He had poured some scotch for himself and soon enough they were sitting against the couch having pushed the coffee table out of the way. 

His reward was that he would give her a little piece of information about himself. It didn’t necessarily have to be about his childhood, it just had to be true and about him and if it was something she already knew she would make him tell her another one. Soon enough Sherlock while mildly tipsy expressed to Molly how sorry he was to have ruined her chances of having a happy life with a nice bloke. 

She had only given him a wry smile and nodded. “It was going to be tough but I don’t regret trying. I don’t ever regret trying but you were right, Sherlock. You are an exception and that is difficult.”

He went to apologize again for inadvertently ruining her chances when Molly shook her head. “Stop apologizing. It’s my fault. I can’t stop caring about you but it’s okay. You’re important to me and that won’t ever change.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.” She told him, taking to drinking what was left in her glass. 

“Thank you.” He told her before taking her hand in his and just holding it in his lap. Molly just watched him run his hand over her hand, unsure of what he was thanking her for. She almost wanted to ask but she didn’t want a reason right now. This moment was enough for her. So she sat there smiling at him and the truthfulness that had come with this evening with him. She wanted to thank him for that but instead, she just stopped trying to open her mouth to say it and she leaned up and pecked his jaw. 

Sherlock looked at her and Molly just shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t know what to say. Sherlock didn’t say anything, didn’t let go of her hand he just stared at her in fascination. Any other woman would have probably high tailed it out of her or try something else. This wasn’t anyone woman, was it. This was Molly Hooper and she had always been able to be who he needed whenever and sometimes something much more. 

He sat there thinking about what that could mean for the better part of the night and when she fell asleep he picked up and took her to his room and tucked her in for sleep. He thought about staying and laying beside her for the night but decided against it. Tonight had been enough, for now.


	43. For Her Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **anonymous** asked: _John has married and moved away. The building where Molly lives has had a rash of crime. "For her own safety," Sherlock moves her stuff into 221B. But doesn't inform her she's his new roommate until he invites her to eat takeaway there after one of her shifts._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written after s3, so there are vague mentions of events that happened during it. Nothing too spoilery if you've not gotten there haha

**Originally posted on January 21, 2014**

* * *

 

Sherlock Holmes is an odd man, anyone could tell you that but it becomes more apparent when he decides he needs to do something to better suit him or in a way accommodate the ones around him in order for him to feel secure. This is probably one of the thousands of reasons Molly Hooper feels both baffled and confused upon entering Baker Street upon a request through text message earlier during her shift at Bart’s that wanted to see her at 221B for takeout. 

She had thought about declining in all honesty but she hadn’t really felt like cooking tonight and he had been the one to extend the offer. He didn’t do that. Not really, he had asked her out for chips after his return but that was an entirely different story. This was nearly a year after the fact and things had changed severely. 

For one Molly was no longer cohabiting on weekends with her then-fiancee Tom. They had ended their engagement much to the relief of many people she knew. They didn’t have to say it but she knew they had opinions about him. It took her a while to see it in all truth. She had slowly started to adapt to being on her own fully again, well with the addition of her faithful feline of course but she was still on her own and no longer attached. That was okay, she had come to realize.

She had enjoyed her time with Tom but things had shifted upon a certain detective’s return and she couldn’t take back her reaction to it no matter how much she wished things had turned out different. She really did. It would have so much easier on her heart if she could just forget about him in that light. She was a different person now, a stronger person and she knew when she had reached her limit.

Which is why she was also rather baffled about this invitation. That is the fact that a certain person had also returned and had been weighing on her mind heavily. She knew that Sherlock knew of it too but they hadn’t decided to talk about it yet. Not really. 

Sherlock had made a habit of coming by the lab when he knew she was working even when he wasn’t on a case. He would just stop by sometimes with a cup of coffee from a shop he passed by on the way - some that were most definitely not on the way, and just sit somewhere and stay for a couple of hours. He would either be working on something at his microscope, running a test or experiment on his own (at times he would ask for her help if he couldn’t quite grasp a certain method that he hadn’t dealt with before, “You’re a graduate chemist, can’t you just work it?” she told him one of the first times he asked her), or at the very least he was stoic still running through his mind palace with very little notion that he was looking at data mentally, perhaps it was just roaming inside. She didn’t understand why he didn’t just stay at Baker Street if all he wanted to do was sit there in his head while she worked.

It wasn’t like she minded having his company. That was far from the truth. She had gotten comfortable in his presence over the years and it was much easier to talk to him about stuff, but there was something they just couldn’t talk about. She had an inkling that it sometimes bothered him because it had come to count on her as a friend and confidant at times. She would always be there for him no matter what. It didn’t really matter if she was busy she could multitask.

When she had come to arrive at Baker Street having taken her car over instead of a cab seeing as she had gone home to shower a few times to try to get the stench of death off of her (it always lingered didn’t it?), she found herself in the most peculiar position of having to spot several of her things sitting alongside his in the most strangest of areas in the front room of the flat. 

Her backup labcoat was next to his Belstaff on the coat rack, her favorite slippers were by the fireplace and oh there was also her feline that sat cuddled near Sherlock’s feet as he ended a piece on his violin. Molly looked like a deer at that moment when he turned to her with a grin and got to his feet and strode over to her. He had placed his instrument down on the table and reached for her coat after she unbuttoned it, hanging it up along with their other items. “I’m so glad you could join me, Molly.”

“What is this?” She said instead of nodding in agreement with his pleasantry. She couldn’t fathom how weird this whole thing was.

“Pardon?” He asked, his brow creasing in confusion at the skepticism in her voice.

“My things…are in your flat.” She said lifting her head to stare at him with the most accusatory glare she could muster. All she needed to do to add to her demeanor was place her hands on her hips, but she wasn’t going to be that girl. She merely clenched her hands at her side trying very hard not to be angry because she didn’t know what was happening. Not entirely. 

He had obviously nicked a few of her most precious items out of her flat. “Yes.” Was his only reply to her statement.

“Why are my things in your flat, Sherlock?” She huffed moving around him to walk about the room to see what else he had gotten that she hadn’t been able to tell at first. Her medical texts were on his bookshelf…she noticed as she waited for him to say something.

“I thought it’d be easier if you and I shared the same space given what is happening.”

“What is happening, you haven’t clued me in on anything since we all found out about that?”

“Nothing yet but I need to have the ones I want to protect the closest to me.” Molly stopped inspecting the border of the room and turned to him. If he was any other man she would have probably jumped him on the spot, but she didn’t believe that that statement had left his mouth not right now. 

“That’s your motive for moving some of my things here?”

“No. They’re all here. You just haven’t noticed.”

Molly opened her mouth and closed it for a few moments the idea weighing in her head but she had several questions. First: was this even real? “Are you kidding me?” Molly said quietly.

“It was little things at first, just to see if you would notice. You hadn’t from what I saw. Between Mycroft and we managed to get the bigger stuff that would fit when you were out for a shift or having a night out with the girls. It worked perfectly.”

Molly took to running her hands through her head for a few minutes as she shifted from what foot to the other. This was insane. He was insane. “You’re serious.” She placed a hand over her mouth.

“Yes…” He trailed off hoping that she was finally realizing the gravity of the situation and by the sheen, in her eyes, it was quite clear that she had. 

“Any other reasons besides the obvious?” Molly replied after a few minutes of dwelling on this new situation that she had stumbled into. 

“One, I suppose.” He said as he strode over to her placing a hand on her shoulder to get her to look up at him. He smiled at her slightly, “Your place is right in the middle of dangerous activity. If the data was correct your place would have been trashed within another couple days. In a way, I was saving you the trouble of having to deal with.”

“I still have things at my flat, Sherlock. If this is really happening that is.”

“I hope so. I can have them here by the morning.” He turned away from her for a brief moment. “Are we still on for dinner, Molly?”

“I am still standing here aren’t I, Sherlock?”

He smiled before guiding her over to the sofa where he promptly said down beside her and handed her a plate which he had already served a helping of food. “Go on, eat up.” He told her as he took his own plate. Molly rolled her eyes at him. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

“You’re in shock currently. I must dote on you until you get out of it.”

“Oh, that’s it.” Molly laughed before smacking him. “It’s not my fault you decided to up and move me into your flat without even telling me about it until inviting me over for takeout and telly.”

“Telly? I don’t even have it on.”

“Well, if we’re going to live together Sherlock I’m going to need a little more than good takeout and your violin to keep me amused when you’re off running after you know who.”

“He’s not Voldemort, don’t look at me like I got bored and I needed to entertain myself. Besides, he is indeed worse than old Voldy.”

Molly sat there giggling at Sherlock for a full minute before he grabbed the remote and turned on the television in order to stifle her laughter down to a minimum and they began to argue about what to watch. 

Sherlock still didn’t regret his decision. This was going to be quite enjoyable. He could already feel it. 


	44. Henry-Cavill Hudson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **anonymous** asked: _Mrs. Hudson's nephew, Henry Cavill-Hudson, is in town and Mrs. Hudson decides to set him up with the lovely Molly Hooper since Sherlock says he has no romantic interest in her. Words which were more wishful thinking than reality._

**Originally posted on March 16, 2014**

* * *

 

Molly had decided to drop off a couple of case files for Sherlock, seeing as he had seemed a bit glum lately. They weren’t any fingers or toes but she hadn’t had any to offer up to him this evening. It hadn’t exactly crossed her mind that he might be busy with something else she just needed to step out for a little while to get some fresh air. She too had been feeling a little less than chipper lately but that had nothing to do with him or how she was doing particularly. She was just really exhausted for the most part. 

Even with working in a morgue that sometimes ran on a slow clock she felt sluggish and tired on most days. There were nights when she needed an extra cup of coffee to keep her lively and others when she crawled up on the settee in the staff lounge for a power nap for half an hour or so until she felt like she had been there way too long. Work was a struggle and so was keeping the balance between not seeming entirely too antsy about the coming storm in the shape of a possibly alive Jim Moriarty. 

It had been difficult but Molly tried her best to keep her worries to herself especially when she was around Sherlock. He seemed to have finally keyed into how she thinks most days. He had come to try to make her feel better when he thought it was a good idea which was more than likely every few weeks. 

Molly was conflicted on how she felt about it. They shared things with each other at times and that was good for progression but she had another half of her that didn’t really believe that it was possible in the sense that they would find a romantic link just yet. She did appreciate how hard he tried to keep her within arms reach, however. It meant that he truly meant what he said those years ago, and everything he tells her when he sees doubt in her eyes. 

She shakes all of the bad things away as she reaches for the knocker on the steps of 221. Her mouth settling it a small smile when she spies movement at the window above where she knows it is visible that she is there. She waits a few seconds before the door swings open and Mrs. Hudson lets her in. She knows that Sherlock might not do it no matter if he knew it was her there.

The idea that he had been expecting her makes Molly stop half a beat before continuing on in exchanging pleasantries with Mrs. Hudson who seems to be excited today. “Oh dear if you’re not too busy with things I’d like to have you down for tea.”

This hadn’t been the first time but there was this twinkle in the older woman’s face that made it seem different. Molly nodded amicably. “Sure, that would be nice. I’ll be down soon enough I’m sure. Just have a few things to keep him out of your hair.” She giggled before slipping past the woman and up the stairs to the ‘he’ in the equation.

He was pacing back and forth in front of the mantel. “You’ve brought me something.”

Molly beamed at him as she shuffled over towards his desk with her shoulder bag. This one different than the one she’s worn out with him before. Gone for the moment was the green and white striped loose bag in its stead was a satchel type bag with a wide enough case for a laptop and several other items should she find it necessary. It was a gift from Sherlock of all people. He had given it to her a few cases ago, only muttering that he had no use for it and that she would probably find it more useful than the raggedy old thing that she kept around with her. It was something that he had kept from university days for some reason. Sentiment, although he was not sure if that was a logical enough reason. His words - not hers.

She had mumbled a few sarcastic remarks in his stead with a word of thanks. It had come in handy, in fact, she had used it several times now only switching it out if she was going out somewhere special. 

She pulled out the few large manila folders that were aged with dust. “I was looking over these because I had nothing better to do for work. They aren’t exactly special nor has any of the Yard looked into it for more than twenty or so years. I browse sometimes when it’s convenient.” She told him quietly as he sat down in the chair next to her and slowly reached over for the top of the pile containing five cases altogether. “Thought you might be able to work through them if you weren’t too busy. I don’t exactly have your mind.”

He flickered through the first one quickly until he came towards the middle, humming with feign interest. “How did you come across this…Molly?” He peered up at her carefully as he read on as if he was unable to pull himself away from it. It’s what she hoped would happen. 

“Mike thought I needed a little more challenging to do when I wasn’t busy with cadavers or analysis. It’s been slow lately.”

“I know.” He sighed but gave her a smile. “Thanks for bringing them by. Are you sure you don’t want to have a go at these?”

“I’ve tried, not seeing anything else of importance.”

He went back to the file for a few minutes without saying anything. Molly moved away from him thinking that it was probably about the time that she headed down to Mrs. Hudson’s before she left. She had moved about five feet when he called out to her.

“You’re tired. You have plenty of vacation hours that you could use. I’m not the doctor but it has been advised to me that it’s better that you rest when you can.”

“I sleep, Sherlock.” Molly turned back to him.

“No, you don’t.” He told her and went to give her more evidence of his claims only to find that she had dashed out the door. He huffed, and stood rushing after her. She couldn’t just leave when he had more to say to her. 

He hadn’t heard a door close which meant that she hadn’t exactly left yet. 

Mrs. Hudson, he praised the woman and her need to coddle his pathologist and friend when she felt it necessary. However, upon stepping over the threshold he did not find it pleasant at all at what he was seeing. Molly, Martha Hudson and another male who was much too young to be any of his land lady’s suitors. 

Molly was smiling politely at the man who looked ordinary but as a rule in the case of Molly Hooper and men he felt it was positively necessary for him to have a closer look.

“Molly I need to talk to you some more.” He stated loud enough that they could all hear. Molly looked over at him with a strained look on her face. She either didn’t want to talk to him or she thought this was a bad time. Was she enjoying her time with this man?

“Ah, Sherlock dear come to sit and have a cuppa. I was just introducing Molly to my nephew, Henry. He’s come into the city for a few days.”

Sherlock went over to the table but didn’t sit down at first. Only after another look around the table did he see that it was probably better to not make a scene when he wasn’t sure of what exactly was going on. He often confused matters when his eyes was on a different target. 

They sat, had tea with Mrs. Hudson for a little while before Molly decided that she had stayed long enough. Only then did she rise and thank their hostess and spoke sweetly in the only way that she could towards anyone less he be a man in the direction of Henry their guest. 

“It was nice meeting you, Henry. Hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you, Molly. Maybe I’ll see you around before I leave.”

Molly didn’t give an exact answer to that, she just smiled a little before heading out with Sherlock on her tail. He almost stayed at the table but thought better of it. He could still hear Mrs. Hudson gushing about Molly to her nephew through the closed door. 

“Molly.” She hadn’t left though she had the time to do so. She hummed, she was listening to him. “Are you interesting in dating?”

Molly coughed, turning towards him with a look that could only could be interpreted through the words that soon spilled from her mouth. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Dating that bloke.”

“I barely know him Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson was merely being kind and wanting me to sit in with them before I went home.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

Molly mouth slipped down a fraction as she looked at Sherlock. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I? I make it a habit of watching people and seeing what they don’t want other people to see. Whether that be lies or truths that they feel are just.”

“Mrs. Hudson isn’t Moriarty.”

“Have you been thinking about him?” Sherlock breathed. It was one thing to just admit that his landlady wasn’t evil as he already knew but it was another thing entirely for him to finally connect the dots. There was reasons why Molly wanted to leave his stead so quickly. He could read her almost as easily as she could read him. 

Molly opened her mouth and closed it, trying to find a way around not talking about it. “You do it too. What makes me thinking about him any different?”

He took a step forward and stopped. “He was close to you once.” 

“Sherlock….” Molly clenched her hand into a fist in order to stop herself from trying to touch him. “It’s different now. We’ll figure it out when he surfaces, if he surfaces.” She told him as confidently as she could.

“You’re not sleeping.” He repeated again.

“Yeah…” She nodded. 

“That’s a problem.”

Molly wanted to say something sarcastic but instead, she shrugged. “I know that. I’ll figure it out. I gotta go. Stop worrying about things that aren’t happening Sherlock. I’m good.”

He said nothing but let her go. 

The next time they saw each other he knew that she had seen Henry again without his meddling landlady in the picture. He said nothing though it irritated him. 

Lestrade had done a background check on him though he hadn’t asked him too. “You’re not the only one who doesn’t need to see a repeat of that psychopathic. You’re not the only one she talks to or Mrs. Hudson rings sometimes.” 

Before Sherlock could think to thank him for it he had left him to look at the file.

Henry Cavill-Hudson was clean. Moderately so, anyway. Nothing too bad, he was a good guy in the eyes of the law but there was something that still was pestering Sherlock. It wasn’t this new guy and when Molly came to him a few days after he had read his file with some relieving news he figured it out.

“I’ve gone on two lunch outings with Henry. I know you probably have figured it out already but I think it’s better that you know things before it surprises you again. He’s nice, and that’s good.” She paused and her eyes skirted over to him. They were in the lab. Molly having come back from the canteen for day old sandwiches and bitter coffee with her clipboard in her hand. 

Sherlock was stationed behind his microscope looking at a few of the flash frozen specimens that he was allowed to peer through. This one had to do with a special case he was looking into. He stopped looking for anything in the lens however when he heard her mutter the name Henry. His throat felt dry and he waited for her to continue speaking but when she paused his head flew up and he turned to her. His hand had a steady grip on the microscope. 

She continued once he was watching her. Perhaps, she was just waiting for him to do so. Sherlock checked her for any giveaways. Beyond the lack of muscles in her jaw, there wasn’t much else to go on.

“I told him that I wasn’t looking for anyone. I’m sure he’ll make someone happy but I don’t think I need that right now. I have slept some for the past two days.”

“Good.” He muttered after a beat, turning back to his microscope and to the specimens only to reel back and pose a question for Molly who was still standing there. “You’re off tomorrow, correct?”

“Yes…do you need me to do something for you?”

“I suppose. Nothing that requires a lab or anything like that. Would you find it agreeable if we took a walk at 3:00?”

“A walk?” Molly questioned, softly.

“Yes, I haven’t been on one in some time. Sometimes people do that, don’t they?”

“Yes. They do.” She answered again. 

“Good.”

“Okay.” She began to turn to walk away.

“Molly?” He called again. 

“Yes, Sherlock?”

“Will you accompany me tomorrow? You didn’t answer.” He needed some water. 

“Sure. Hyde Park?" 

"Sounds good.” He didn’t realize until after she had left him that his heart was beating rapidly. He had been anxious and nervous for every reason he had been trying to hide. Failure could be delightful some of the time, he thought. 

 


	45. Slip of the Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **anonymous** asked: _Sherlock has decided to finally declare his romantic interest in Molly but when he tries to get the words out, he ends up insulting her yet again. This is the last straw for Molly and she informs him she is over him._

**Originally posted on March 16, 2014**

* * *

 

There was madness to his method. It was usually the other way around for ordinary people but for Sherlock Holmes nothing had sounded so perfect. No. That wasn’t true. He could physically count on his hand another handful of things that sounded perfect to him and one of them was not, the sound of Molly’s voice growing louder and louder until he had an idea that perhaps he had gone about it the wrong way. This had been much simpler in his head.

“Molly. Stop.” He said, reaching out for her arms and placing them at her side with a force that he was sure he didn’t exactly want to use. He never wanted to hurt Molly. No, never Molly. Which is why this was harder for him to cope with because it hadn’t been his intention at all. In fact, he had been trying to do the opposite. He had been trying to finally give her what she wanted. What she craved for years because it had been there waiting for him to find it and accept it as the truth. 

He fell in love with Molly Hooper. It hadn’t been an easy road. There had been plenty of issues that all boiled down to the beginning with him. The Moriarty issue, Not Irene, the Fall, Meat Dagger, Slapping, The Renewed Expectations, Disappointment, then there was this. Out of everything he thought he hated this more than anything.

“You can’t just expect me to forgive you when you insulted me like that again. I’m tired of it, Sherlock now let me go.”

“No.” He told her sternly.

“You can’t keep me here forever.”

“I can try.” He said softly. He wished he could get her to understand that he didn’t call her here when they were to be alone so that they could fuss and fight. He just couldn’t get the words to push out in the way he wanted them to. The way he needed them to. “You don’t understand, Molly.”

Molly huffed and moved her arms again trying to shake him loose. “I don’t understand. You don’t understand that I want to be away from you right now, if not for as long as I live and breathe. It might not click in your great brain Sherlock Holmes but I will not stand for you making a mockery of me and my feelings just because you have the ego the size of the sun.”

He let her go then but she didn’t get far when she started to whip up her coat and things from the chair that she had set them in when she got up the stairs to meet him. “Would you believe me if I told you that I understand you clearly? That I feel like I’ve become a speck of what you used to feel for me?”

“What are you talking about?” She stopped but she didn’t turn to look at him. She didn’t want to look into the face of the man who made her want to shout at him and cry at present but for years of making her rethink everything because she understood him. Funny how things could change in an instant. 

“I’ve come to know you, Molly. To truly know you and understand you for who you are. I never mean the harsh words I say. You are far from atrocious, what I mean is that you make me feel sick in the most wonderful way. You make me smile when there is nothing to smile about. Murder, lies, deception it should break my non-existent heart but it does nothing at all. Yet, when you look at me and I see pain or disappointment for my action I want to shout and tell you anything to make you realize that I am not truly mad. I am only trying as hard as I am capable to make it so that I please you and not completely fail. But, you only see what you want to see. You hear what you think you hear.”

Molly stays rooted to the spot for she knows that forever bad word he has said to her tonight there is an honest and brash reason for what he does it. The fact that she knows that he has tried in the past to try to make up for his actions doesn’t quell how angry he has made her in this one night but it does make her feel like it is only acceptable that she give him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Tell me, Sherlock. What are you trying to say?”

For all his trying he still wants others to try to get on his level and that’s where it hurts him and confuses all the rest. Molly has noted this several times over the years that she’s known him. “Work it out, Molly. It’s painfully simple. Even an idiot could figure it out.”

She turns around and looks at him. There is no sneer or look of contempt on his face. He has a neutral expression that borders on a weakness that Molly has only seen three times in their acquaintanceship. All bad times in his life when it comes to several markers of value. 

She decides not to sit there and complain about how stupid he is being. How could he possibly think she’ll stay and play this game with him. Yet, a part of continues to want him to show her the side of him that is in this light both human and dangerous. The parts that no one else cares for. 

She almost walked out and he had held her steady because he knew that she might not come back and he didn’t want to risk it. It matters to him that Molly stay put and she doesn’t leave him straggling behind like a torn flag in the war.

This is war to him. His thoughts mixed up to Molly but perfectly sane to Sherlock. It is most unsettling. 

Until it clicks into place.

“Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side. Your words, Sherlock.”

“Yes.” His voice is raspy. It might be from the emotions more than the lack of words that he’s said the past fifteen minutes as he’s waited for her to figure it out. 

“Why would you choose to let it happen with me?”

He draws in a deep breath. “Weren’t you the one who said, it doesn’t always allow you to choose? Sometimes it just happens.”

He starts to walk towards her with his hands behind his back. There is a small flicker of emotion in his eyes as he bends down so that he is at her eye level. 

“I’m not sure that was me.”

“I don’t forget you or what you’ve told me. Mind Palace. It has it's uses.” His sentences are clipped but full of truths. She knows he’s doing it because he knows what she does. 

He can’t come back from this. If she were to leave, it would tear his world apart. He’s decided he can’t be without her any longer.

Tonight was the final draw. For both of them, it seems.

“I want to hear you say it.” She tells him, her head thrown back so that she can really see him. The curls of his hair fall loosely closer to her as he leans more into her. One had poised around the back of the chair where she is standing. 

“I love you, Margaret "Molly” Theresa Anne Hooper and I won’t take it back. I promise.“ His voice is low and thick as he tells her all the things he knows he should have said from the get-go. 

Then, even when he knows she’ll ask him how he knows her full name, not the one she uses professionally but the one on her birth certificate he presses his mouth against hers. They are soft as the woman he knows she is inside and out and she eases down from the flickering of the flames of fury that had been blazing strongly around her.

She looks up at him when he pulls away after a few long moments. There are no words here but a new understanding has unfolded and soon his hands are wrapped around her waist, keeping her against him as he goes in for another kiss with her hands tangled in his hair. It feels perfect, and he knows that this what he was thinking of weeks earlier when he decided to go through with it.


	46. Missed Presents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **anonymous** asked: _Sherlock is back from the dead after two years and it is Christmastime. Molly invites him to her flat where she shows him the pile of presents she has bought for him over the past two years, a time during which she never forgot his birthday nor Christmas._

**Originally posted October 23, 2013**

* * *

  


She had made him curious earlier in the day when she asked if he would mind coming by her flat because she had something she wanted to show him. It was two days before Christmas, he cared little about that but he took note of it before politely agreeing to pop round before he went home for the night. 

What he found there was something that had him making a full stop. On the coffee table was a box that had shiny wrapping papered covered boxes varying in sizes. Molly had just come out of the kitchen when she saw him eyeing the box. “Oh. You let yourself in, then?” She didn’t look as upset as he wished she was about him picking her lock and stumbling through the door as if he was a common visitor. Not to mention it was a criminal offense that he had done plenty of times before. 

He was not. He found himself too distracted by the box to tell her any of this. He only nodded his head in recognition that what she said was the truth. Molly gestured for him to sit and she rushed back to the kitchen and grabbed a small tin of biscuits and the tray of tea. She quickly placed some in front of where he was sitting before drawing hers up as she walked about the room in a nervous manner.

Sherlock watched her carefully as he sipped his tea which had a slight touch of peppermint in it but beyond that, it tasted nearly as he always took it. He couldn’t say he would drink it any other time than the present, he was a man who enjoyed most of the same things in his life personally. “What’s this all about, Molly?” He sighed, a few minutes had passed and Molly hasn’t said a single word to say why she had called him here.

“Those are yours.” She finally told him, spinning around on her toes - a brief image of her in a tutu as a young girl flickered through his mind and he bit down a grin with the imagery of her once dancing in her multicolored leggings and the bun that was mostly customary for the younger ones. He came back to the surface as he saw the expression on his friend’s face.

She looked distressed for a brief second longer before she spoke up again. “I know you didn’t really celebrate either occasion but whenever your birthday rolled around or Christmas I would buy things. Little things I thought you would like. I thought of finding a way to get them to you but I never did. Christmas is in two days so I figured I’d finally give them to you even if you don’t open them. Less clutter, I guess.”

He could tell by the way the last bit of her speech fell flat that she didn’t believe that to be the truth. She wanted him to genuinely take them and look at them and remember that even if he was dead to everyone else she remembered him her own way, even if she knew he was alive. He realized this is what might have moved her to not fall completely apart in his absence. 

Sherlock immediately moved to place his teacup down and pulled the box towards him filing through the gifts for a box he wanted to pick him. There was a larger one at the bottom tied with a blue bow, the box itself was green. He carefully pulled it to the surface and laid it on his lap. He could feel Molly glancing at him but he pretended not to notice as he slowly began to open it. 

Inside was a bit of wrapping paper - white and folded to cover the gift. He pulled out a dressed shirt made of silk. It was not completely unlike the shirts he usually wore but it was a different color. It was a light green, close to mint - the stitching was made with a lighter shade but there was something almost unique about the stitching itself. He had seen it before.

His eyes slowly rose to address Molly who had gone back to sipping her tea, quietly. She didn’t look as nervous anymore but there was a small lingering of something in her stature. “Which one was it for?” 

“Christmas. Two years ago.” She told him before crossing over to the table and taking a seat on the chair opposite of where he was sitting on her sofa. 

“I like it. Thank you.” He smiled at her briefly before tucking the shirt back away and shutting the box. He almost went to grab another but his phone vibrating in his pocket made him frown, stopping him in the process. He extracted it and fiddled with it for a moment. His fingers typing away as he spoke to her. “I’ll open the rest later. Promise.” His eyes flickering over to her to let her know that he meant it. He knew that she wouldn’t know whether to believe him entirely but he could try to acquiesce her doubt.

He meant what he said and as he lifted the box full of presents in his arms and moved to walk out of the flat, he bent down hovering over her whispering another, “Thank you, Molly Hooper” before pressing a soft kiss against her forehead.

They saw each other two days later. On Christmas, at Baker Street for the small gathering that hadn’t exactly happened in this manner in quite a while. Molly grinned brightly at seeing that mint colored shirt on Sherlock but pretended not to be happy about that entirely. She greeted everyone and took a seat next to Mrs. Hudson and Mary who were only too delighted to see her and give her their own presents which she tried to decline much to their annoyance. 

She giggled at them but accepted gratefully. 

Mary commented later about Sherlock’s shirt. “I haven’t seen that one before.”

“Neither have I.” She lied, smiling as she heard John trying to persuade him to go somewhere tomorrow. It seemed as though he either didn’t want to or had other plans. It ended in a huffy John extracting Mary away from her mumbling how “he gets a new shirt and thinks he can just go off doing things without giving any information on what that is exactly. He could be planning something…”

“John, really have to stop worrying about him. I think I know what his plans are…” That was the last she heard from the Watsons before she was brought into attention by the deep baritone that she adored. “Mary does actually know my plans. I talked to her about them.”

Molly hadn’t noticed him lurking in the doorway of the kitchen where she had been with Mary beginning to help clean up. “Oh? What are you doing?” She asked, going back to her task of washing the dishes. 

“I thought I’d take you on an outing.”

Molly almost dropped the plate she had in the sink. Her head swiveling in his direction. He was much closer than she thought. Right next to her. “An outing…with me?”

“Yes,” he grinned. 

“To do what exactly?”

“Hmm…this and that.”

“Sherlock.” She laughed. 

“Think of it as that outside of work time you’ve always wanted with me that I’ve never given you.”

“You mean a date?” Her eyes shot straight up. He couldn’t mean that.

“I suppose. Just be ready by two. I’ll pop around.” He muttered before leaving her there, blushing.  


	47. A light in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **anonymous** asked: _There's a storm raging and the lights are out at Molly's flat. Molly's afraid of the dark, so she asks Sherlock to stay with her._

**Originally posted on December 3, 2013**

* * *

 

Everyone had been over for dinner. It had become this new sort of routine between the small collection of friends who surrounded themselves in Sherlock’s company. Molly had been a bit nervous, she hadn’t ever really cooked for so many people before. She already knew she wasn’t brilliant at it but she was good enough to satisfy her few friends as well as herself. Don’t even mention the fact that Sherlock might not even eat any of it. Though he might, he had just finished a case. It just made her worry more. It was between those things and the storm that had begun half an hour before everyone started filing in.

Everyone seemed rather cheerful to be with one other despite that and some had even complimented her mother’s recipe that she had dug out for the casserole that she ended up dished out to them. One of them being Sherlock, surprisingly enough.

She was delighted and her worries had more or less dissolved with a little bit of wine. Apart from the thunder rolling, she seemed to be one of the only people worried about it, however. Everyone was enjoying the homey atmosphere of her small sitting room and that should have been enough but when everyone started to slowly filter out that was when her panic set out to ruin the rest of the evening.

Then the lights cut just as Sherlock - the only who had stayed with her long enough without making excuses about it (most were tired). She didn’t mind really. They spoke a little over the evening which made her silently warm. They were friends after all.

Sherlock turned at the flickering of the lights. The door was ajar giving a small ray of light in the room. “Do you have a backup generator in the building?”

Molly fisted her hands under her arms as she shifted from one foot to the other. “Not that I know of. This doesn’t happen too often. If it does, I’m usually at Bart’s.”

She listened as he hummed momentarily as if trying to decide something on his own. She was silently hoping he would stay even for a little bit longer despite the fact that he had spent more time in her presence on this night alone. She couldn’t ask him but she felt it won’t hurt her much. She would feel safer if he complied of course.

Which is why she finally after some more minutes had passed with nothing uttered from Sherlock, his hand still poised to leave but he hadn’t budged. She did wonder whether he was waiting for her to do or say something or possibly for the lights to flicker back on. She hadn’t the slightest idea. “Sherlock…”

He shut the door when she called him and turned towards her. She was standing off to the side of the sofa where she had been sitting along with Mary and Mrs. Hudson for the better part of the evening when she wasn’t busy making sure everyone was doing alright. “Yes.” He replied simply as he trained his gaze on her in the darkness. He moved without little motive as far as she was concerned and began to open cabinets behind the sofa on the little stand that once belonged to her father.

Sherlock mentioned once how out of place it looked in comparison to her other things but she could never do away it. Sentimentality, she and he both knew that was why. It wasn’t as if it was badly positioned or too banged up. It was a nice piece of furniture that had its own uses. One of which Molly began to realize was the very reason he moved over to it after giving her an answer to a question she hadn’t fully asked him yet.

Inside of the cabinet were her small set of tea light candles and a stash of matches. She had almost forgotten about them in her panic. She watched his silhouette as he began to light a few of them and place them around the room. It wasn’t much but she supposed it would do.

Something about this reminded her that he had deduced the question before. She sat on the sofa as she spoke quietly. “You don’t know what I was asking. What were you saying yes to?”

He turned to her as he set the fifth candle on the table in front of where she was sitting and took to blowing out the match that he had more or less used until it was close to burning off his fingertips. “To you obviously. It doesn’t a genius to notice when someone is afraid of something. You’re afraid of the dark and well the thunder just a bit. You’ve been trying to mask how jumpy you get about it with being a hostess to everyone else. Until the opportunity arose for you to be on your own. It would have been highly idiotic for me not to understand that you require my help at this point in time. So, I’ll stay with you until your lights come back on.”

Molly often wondered how he didn’t grow breathless when he was spewing out observations like that. “Well…thank you for that.”

Sherlock took to maneuvering back around the sofa after giving her a smile and taking to staring out the window. He looked rather happy at that post but that’s not why she was smiling at his turned form. She felt pleased that she didn’t have to admit to her silly fear. He had noticed but had decided to not draw attention to her problem.

She had thought that would be the end of that. They would just be silent as the night went on but soon enough Sherlock retired from standing at the window to sitting on the sofa with her. Then he told her something. “It makes me feel calm actually. The darkness, the quiet rumbling of thunder.”   
They spent the next few hours talking. Really though Sherlock was the one talking about a few spectacular evenings as a boy in the estate he lived in with Mycroft. He had a fun time trying to scare his brother and even got scared once. He seemed to share a lot when he wasn’t surrounded by curious eyes. Molly was curious about Sherlock but not in the way he was used to. It was comfortable and when the sun came up and light streaked into the room he peered down to see Molly lying partly with her head nestled near his thigh.

He smiled softly at her before getting up as carefully as possible in order to not wake her up and tossing the soft throw that sat on the chair that Lestrade sat in for most of the night over her. He surprised himself a bit as he jerked down to peck her forehead before leaving her flat.


	48. In times of trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **anonymous** asked: _Molly is in a terrible accident and Sherlock worries that she won't pull through._

**Originally posted October 26, 2013**

* * *

 

He huffed when Molly finally answered the phone. He had texted her a few times and then decided to finally ring her mobile about three separate times, which she finally picked up. It was almost if she didn’t want to talk to him. Blimey, he didn’t believe that one bit. If there is one thing he knew to be true about Molly Hooper and her situation with him she enjoyed speaking with him even if it was for a few seconds about a case. 

Though, it pegged him as strange to hear the annoyance in her voice as she spoke. “What do you want, Sherlock?”

“Why haven’t you been picking up? I need your help.” He now sounded equally agitated by her annoyance. At least they were both seemingly on the same page. 

Molly sighed, he heard a small squeak she was probably sitting up. “Yeah, well some of us were sleeping and didn’t want to get up to answer phone calls. I am tired, Sherlock. If it isn’t life or death I am not going outside.”

“It could be.”

Molly didn’t say anything. She waited for him to explain. 

“I found an anomaly in the case I’ve been working on and as John won’t pick up the phone, won’t you please come to Baker Street. It won’t even take more than an hour.”

“An hour I could be using to sleep, Sherlock.” He began to say something when he could hear the distinct sound of Molly shuffling about. A faint meow from her feline as she disturbed him on her way up. The thing like to cuddle up near her whenever she was resting. “Don’t be upset with what I’m wearing. You chose to wake up a tired Molly Hooper, you get to suffer the consequences.”

Sherlock would have enjoyed to tell her that he didn’t have much of a problem with it for he was still in his pajamas as well. Whatever made her get over here faster. “Don’t forget your coat.”

He heard her curse quietly, she had almost been out the door he imagined. There was hurried set of noises as Molly fished for her coat and then hopped around trying to jostle it on with her keys in the lock as she stepped out. He was sure she was a sight. He tried not to seem amused but it was hard. He smiled to himself as he waited for confirmation that she was well on her way. 

“I’ll be there soon. Dammit.” She cursed a second time after a moment. He could hear the sound of chatter and the noise of cars whizzing by. Much of what Molly was saying was muffled by the wind and the sound of the atmosphere outside. He began to hang up and let her gather herself enough to get into a cabbie and be on her way to Baker Street however something grew unsettling him after a few moments. 

Everything seemed to stop yet it grew louder at the same time. It was only about a minute and a a half after hearing Molly curse that the significant noise of glass shattering and a car’s horn registered in his mind. “Molly?” He asked hurriedly, he was standing on his feet. He kept calling out to her hoping to hear her call his name tiredly again. He did not get that.

Instead, he heard a group of different voice calling out for ambulances and help. 

“Oh shit. That Holmes’ lady friend. Fuck. Fuck. He’ll have my head.” Sherlock quickly slipped on his shoes and grabbed his Belstaff nearly forgetting his scarf in his hurry. He had to get to Molly. Something had gone amiss. He hung up the phone dialing John, willing him to actually pick up this time. He did not disappoint. “I know it’s late, John! Listen, Molly’s been in an accident. I’m not sure how bad. She was outside of her building on her way to me. Well, …you weren’t answering your bloody phone. No, I don’t know what happened I just left Baker Street, you idiot. Right. Sorry. I’ll meet you there." 

…

Sherlock arrived on Molly’s street to find utter chaos. There were uniform’s stationed and a roadblock. He had to get out of the cab and make his way through. Dodging people who were being awfully noisy for it is almost three in the morning. He bit his tongue, trying to find a way through so that he could check out the scene for himself. 

Ah.

Dimmock was here.

"Holmes, what are you doing here?” Dimmock muttered as he let the man through. “Wearing that?”

“It’s three in the morning.” He replied, his throat felt thick and uncomfortable as he surveyed the area. A broken windshield, a set of keys on the ground - Molly’s (there was a small key chain of plastic that contained two sets of photos on it; one on each side. If he picked it up he knew he would find a photo of Molly and her father and the other of the two of them from last spring when he had coaxed her into going undercover with him on a case in Vienna. She looked happy in both of them). He did not pick it up. 

“It was Molly Hooper. The pathologist I work with at times. You’ve met her before, Dimmock.” He reminded him, his eyes felt warm as he swallowed trying to find some composure but lacking it as he tried to pick up the pieces of what had transpired. It was obvious she had dropped her keys, once perhaps twice. 

“There was an eye witness but I don’t know how reliable.”

Sherlock glared at him, why hadn’t he said that before. “She’s on the steps over there with the phone. She won’t let it go. Said, you’d come and she’d only talk to you.” 

Sherlock slowly turned to eye the young girl on the steps. She couldn’t be more than twenty-two years old perhaps a year older. It was hard to tell by her state. She was homeless and he had met her before, during the Blind Baker case. What she was doing out here? This was not their usual place. He suspected she found comfort in Molly in a way. The woman didn’t shy away from people, even when she should. 

“Hello…” He told her as he stepped towards her. He didn’t know her name. “What’s that you have there?”

“The missus phone. She dropped it when someone pushed her. She dropped it before that.”

“Someone pushed her?”

“It was an accident you see. The bloke wasn’t watching her. He was rushing about. There were lots of ‘em milling around. Didn’t really pay missus no mind. She looked very tired. She picked them up the first time - her fault. They just slipped out of her hand but when he pushed her into the street she dropped ‘em again and rushed out without looking really and started picking them up. She didn’t see the car coming. Oh…missus she was always sweet to me.”

Sherlock blinked back the moisture behind his eyes. He had to keep it together if he wanted to make it through the night. John would be at the hospital inquiring news about Molly while he was here. “Would you mind if I took her phone? I’m sure she’ll want it back.”

The woman nodded, shaking a bit as she stretched out her hand to him. “Missus Hooper always talked so fondly of you. She trusted you so I do.”

“What did she do for you?”

“Oh, she always gave me and some others little things to eat when she was going out. Said, it was no bother really and that we should stay safe, keep out of trouble.”

Sherlock noted that that did sound like Molly. “Thank you for keeping her phone safe. I’ll tell her you were watching out for her. I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.”

She smiled once more before getting to her feet and dashing off. The coppers were giving her bad looks. “It was an accident,” Sherlock told Dimmock as he pocketed, Molly’s phone. He felt safer having it on him. 

“That’s evidence.”

“Yes, but she isn’t dead.” He had hoped this was the truth. “Yet.” He added for the measure. “I shall return it to her and later you can do with it what you will.” He didn’t stay long after that. He took a cab that was past the roadblock towards Bart’s. 

…

It was worse than death, he realized upon meeting John on the fifth floor where Molly was to be taken to the ICU once she was out of surgery. It did look good. There was a large amount of internal bleeding besides the damage to her cerebellum. There had been signs of hemorrhaging. As a result, she was rushed into surgery.

He tried to shut off the images of the crash off of his mind but it was all could he see as he stood rigid in the small room waiting for some news on her recovery. John had tried to talk to him about it. He tried to tell him that this wasn’t his fault. It was just an accident and that Molly would be fine. 

He didn’t know that. None of them did. The brain was a complex organ that didn’t always cooperate in the way that it should when joined with trauma. 

This became more apparent as the surgeon came out after four hours and told them all that he knew at this point. They had to put her in a medically induced coma. They managed to get some of the swellings down but she was not out of danger. There was worry that she might suffer damaging effects if she were to wake up. She could have memory loss or lack of motor functions. It was too early to tell. 

In the end, all Sherlock could do is wait. He chose to wait until the next night to go into her room and see her. It had been a poorly planned out mistake. She looked frailer than usual. A tube was shoved in her throat to help her breath. Her brain was having trouble supplying the oxygen she needed to breathe on her own. This was not the end of it. 

There were slashing along her arms from where she crashed against the windshield. They had been cleaned up over the course of the past few hours to ensure that there would be an infection. However, none of this was a good sign. 

For the next couple of days, Sherlock would flit into her room hoping there would be some sort of change in her condition. Hope was something he began to lose as the days kept on dragging back. All there was in this quiet room was a woman lying still on a hospital bed hooked up to machines. She wasn’t really there, was she? She was somewhere else. Somewhere Sherlock Holmes couldn’t reach. 

Three weeks had gone by, by the time Mary Morstan-Watson decided to check on Sherlock who had gone back in to sit with Molly. He usually stood on the wall - as far away from the bed as possible. However, today he sat close to her side and gazed at her. He didn’t say anything. He was just there sitting, waiting. 

“It might help if you talk to her. John and I have tried it but there was no change really.”

“It wouldn’t change if I did, Mrs. Watson.” His voice was gravely and distance. 

“What makes you so sure of that Sherlock?” Mary questioned as she stood on the other side of the bed, brushing Molly’s hair softly. She smiled softly at the pathologist as if she could see her. “Hey, Mols. It’s Mary again. John is not with me today but I have a secret I wanted to share with you and I suppose your friend here who has been a silent vigil all this time. I’m pregnant! John doesn’t know yet but I’m gonna tell him as soon as you’re better. So don’t go leaving us, okay?" 

Sherlock watched carefully as Mary pressed a kiss to Molly’s cheek before standing up again. Her eyes looked watery but she did look a bit happier. “She pretends to be annoyed with you nowadays but even you have to know that she still adores you. If there was one person she wants to hear from, it’s you. Just talk to her about anything. It doesn’t have to have relevance or be interesting. She enjoys when you talk, I believe she described as a dim symphony.” Mary giggled, “You’ll get me for telling you that.”

Sherlock tried to bite down a smile but it was so hard. He really despised how easy she had made it make him not frown so much anymore. Even when she was irritated with him. “Go on, then. I’ll leave you too.”

Mary left after that, leaving Sherlock utterly alone. He didn’t say anything that day or the next but the day after that when he had come back after finishing a case he took up her hand carefully running his other hand along the ridges that were almost indistinguishable.  

"Molly.” He whispered lowly. His voice came out dry and cracked. He inhaled trying to sense some form of scent that he could place that coincided with who he knew her to be. It was all so sanitary. It made him upset. “I wasn’t thinking.” He confessed lowly. “I lied to you. I did have a small anomaly but I really just wanted to sit with you for an hour. Then I would have told you to take my bed and sleep there for the night. I’d take the couch. I wasn’t tired that night. I just needed a reason to find a company with you really. I did call John but it wasn’t for his help with the case, I’m not good at this kind of thing.” He stopped expelling a few shaky breaths. 

“Don’t go leaving me, okay?” He echoed Mary Morstan-Watson’s words from a few days ago. They seemed more than adequate given the situation. 

He pressed a small kiss on the inside of her wrist where her medical bracelet sat tilted slightly before standing up and beginning to leave. He felt a small twinge in his hand but when he looked over at the monitors there was no fluctuation in it. No beeps of change, no odd miss-beat on her heartbeat. He was sure that he felt it. He sighed, placing her hand back down beside her and turning to leave again.

He didn’t come back for two days. His head needed a small reprieve from what came each time he came in contact with the stillness of the room. He felt so much weight burrowing down on him every single time, from the time he steps foot in the hallway that led to her room, to the steps he took out of it. It was unforgiving. He felt heavy.

He knew why this was too. He was overwhelmed by the guilt that somehow this was his fault. If he hadn’t called on her it would have never happened. No matter the fact that he knew it was an accident. There was an eye witness account. There was evidence. It all pointed towards an accidental cause. However, he wouldn’t let himself accept that. Not when he could have prevented it. He should have left her alone but now he couldn’t. Because she was all he could tell about.

Silly things really.

 _We all do silly things_.

It was those kinds of small things that made it more clear than ever that he couldn’t just accept this. Accept what had become of Molly Hooper. His friend and companion during his darkest times. He couldn’t accept it. 

But, the day he returned to visit he almost could.

Molly’s eyes were open and a nurse sat at her side coaxing her into sipping water through the straw. Molly’s eyes closed as she slurped it relishing in the coolness of the hydrating liquid. Sherlock almost stopped in the doorway and backtracked but he just stood there. 

“Sherlock…” Molly called towards him. He only then realized she was looking over at him now. Her eyes open once again. The nurse waved him over and he slowly made his way over to Molly’s side. He just stared down at her unsure of what to say anymore. 

“Hey.” She cleared her throat. “I woke up last night.” She was smiling. He nodded in acknowledgment. He had several things he could say but he wasn’t sure what to say. “Well…say something. It isn’t like you not to talk.” She giggled a little before coughing a little. “I’m fine.” She told the nurse who had turned away to jot down some notes on her chart.

“You were here with me once, I think,” Molly told him, hoping he would begin speaking.

“Yeah.” He gave her no more than that. 

“What’s wrong?” Molly continued. She looked worried. He almost laughed. He should be a concerned party here. He had been for quite a while.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t wake up or when you did you wouldn’t be you.”

“Who else would I be?" 

Sherlock gave her a half smile. “Not you.” He told her. She gestured for him to come down a little and he bent his head a little so that he was close to her. Molly placed her hand against his cheek. “It was an accident, Sherlock.” She whispered.

He nodded, eyes closed feeling an odd sense of warmth with her hand against his flesh. “I know.”

"Yeah, but you don’t. You forget that I’ve known you for years. You told me once that I could see you, that was the truth. I see you more clearly than anyone and if I see that you’re beating yourself over something you didn’t actually do it tears me up inside. I don’t want you to be sad anymore.”

“I’m not.”

“You were.” She whispered as she felt his hand reach up and slip over hers, holding it there for a moment before sliding it down off his face. 

“Then you woke up.” He told her, his voice catching a little.

“I woke up.” She confirmed. “Don’t worry anymore, I’ll be fine soon enough.”

Sherlock swallowed, looking down into her brown eyes. Hope filling him again. “Coffee, when you’re out of here.” He stated.

“Are you asking or telling, Sherlock?” She smiled at him with a little giggle.

“Asking.” There was something about the way his eyes shimmered that had Molly pausing for a moment. Something had changed with him when she was hit by that car. Something she wasn’t entirely sure about yet but she nodded her head. 

“Okay. Yes, I would like coffee with you when I’m released.”

“Thank you.” He told her. 

She almost got ready to inquire why he was thanking her when a giddy looking Mary popped in. Sherlock broke away from him, only pecking her cheek quickly before backing away. She eyed him bewilderingly for a few seconds before Mary came into her field of vision. “You’re pregnant,” Molly muttered to her and Mary immediately launched into an exciting conversation about that very topic.

Sherlock watches the two friends quietly for a few minutes before making his leave. There was something calming about seeing that that made him feel almost okay with what had transpired those weeks ago. She was still Molly. The Molly he had grown to adore in his own right. He smiled to himself as he took the lift down to the lobby and made his way down the street. 

He put his hand in his pocket and stopped for a moment. Her phone was still there. He would give it back to her when they had coffee. That made him grin even brighter as he kept on walking. 


	49. Expecting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **anonymous** asked: _It's Christmas morning, and Molly's "big" gift to Sherlock is announcing to him that she's pregnant, but Sherlock is able to deduce that she is before she gets the chance to tell him._

**Orignally posted December 2, 2013**

* * *

 

She had known for about a week. She had also decided on the third day of knowing that she would have to tell him. Why wouldn’t she? They were currently living together, possibly getting married soon. He hadn’t proposed yet but she had a feeling that perhaps he would. There was always uncertainty when it came to be in the life of one Sherlock Holmes and that certainly was one of them. 

Despite that, she was over the moon with the news of having a child. An actual human being growing in her abdomen and it was Christmas time. Two things she adored; children and Christmas except for that one year. They refrained from talking about that year. It was a bad time for the both of them if she was honest and in a way, it was the catalyst that slowly began to form the change in Sherlock and how he saw things with her.

She should be grateful for that day and the months later on down the line but even if they didn’t discuss it she knew, that had been a difficult time for him. He was dealing with things that he hadn’t really addressed before and now it seemed to make him a bit more strong when it came to working out the things in his personal life. Molly was only happy to be one of the few that was around him that could help him navigate it and in his own way he had begun to appreciate her more.

The development of a romantic partnership between the two of them was enough of an example than any. Now they were expecting a child. It would be more surprising to John and their other friends she thought that the idea that it would be to him. Though Molly fully expected him to be taken back by this new chapter that would unfold in their life as a unit.

She was unfortunately disappointed when Christmas morning came and she got up to greet him in the sitting room where he spent most of the mornings thinking or playing his violin. He spoke rather hurriedly when he realized she had stepped into the room. “You’re pregnant.”

Molly stood there in one of his dress gowns (a hunter green that only saw the light of day when she wore it), mouth gaping like a fish, then she was crossing her arms and pouting openly about it. “You couldn’t let me have this one thing, Sherlock?” She was whining and she knew it but she felt unsatisfied with the way she had hoped this morning to go.

He was on his feet in a second as he watched her, he moved over to her with the speed of a cheetah. “Oh. It was supposed to be a surprise. Well,” He paused a moment, she could see it in his eyes - he was searching for the right thing to say and she waited. “You were excited a few days ago and you never told me why so I made it a small case to tide me over until another one came to me. I am sorry.” He said quietly, hands poised at her shoulders.

She stared at him thoughtfully for a few seconds. She wasn’t exactly mad at him. She was just annoyed that she didn’t get to surprise him. It had been a while since she had been able to do that. There was so much he had uncovered by their living in close quarters. “What are your thoughts about it?” She decided against making it seem like it was some huge deal though in hindsight it was, not only to her either. She expected the others to get involved- soon.

He was staring at her at first with a worried glance but now he seemed downright giddy. “It’s magnificent. Can’t you imagine it, a human being with our shared traits and genes? Oh, London will be astonished by it.” He chuckled. “Mycroft will be astounded by it.”

Molly smiled, he did love to toy with Mycroft. “What if he already knows?”

“I doubt it. It took me at least two and a half days to figure it out myself. He is a bit slower these days. You won’t go tell him right? Don’t spoil my fun, Molly.”

Molly giggled at how he pursed his lips at her. His eyes were glimmering with hopefulness. “Fine. Think of it as my second gift to you, Merry Christmas Sherlock." 

Sherlock smiled at her. "Thank you.” He pecked her on the mouth softly before pulling away and pulling her towards the kitchen where there was a small set of boxes tied with ribbons of varying and wrapping paper folded expertly. She was surprised that there wasn’t so much clutter, then again there was also breakfast sitting on the table. 

It was definitely a cheery morning. 

“Now for yours.”

Molly shook her head at him as she sat at the table and began to eat her toast while he brought over a few of the gifts. There were only five in all but he only bought two over as he sat across from her and begun to tell her what had made him buy her these things in particular. Her favorite happened to be a small box that he brought out after breakfast, however. 

It was a splendid morning. A splendid Christmas. 


	50. Labor Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **anonymous** asked: _A pregnant Molly goes into early labor when an armed man holds her and several others hostage at a cafe. Sherlock finds out and tries to get to Molly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another pregnant Molly one! I think it's kinda funny that I didn't notice this when I first posted these two back to back haha

**Originally posted on October 27, 2013**

* * *

 

This was about the time in Molly Hooper’s life when she was both pleased with the way it was and also completely terrified of what was to come in the coming weeks and months. She was in this moment being very cowardly as she sat in a quaint cafe closer to the chaotic and busy center of the city after leaving another stressful meeting with a certain future in-law without a particular consulting detective who had run off on a case suddenly.

She knew her husband to be enough to know that in a way that was his own saving grace from having to sit in a room with several women that he didn’t like except Molly and perhaps his Mummy if she wasn’t being overly ambitious about things that mattered little to either himself or his fiancee. Lucky man, he was in that right but Molly found herself cursing his good cheekbones and familial ties more as she drank her second cup of tea and ate a sandwich, alone.

She had run away from them and burrowed herself in a place no one would look except perhaps Sherlock. However, the man was unreachable at the time so here she sat, large belly protruding in a chair that made her feel humongous in comparison to the little skinny things that sat at the counter with their tanned boy-toys.

It was all unbecoming and as she flitted through the photographs on her mobile slowly. There were a few of Sherlock that she snapped when he wasn’t paying much attention. He was always so focused on this and that that sometimes she could just take a few without him commenting on it. Usually, if he did he would want to make sure it was a decent one before allowing her to keep it. He knew that it helped a bit when he was away for a while and not answering his phone. 

Molly exited out of the photos and moved over to her messages to send him a quick text alerting him that his mother wouldn’t be happy when he returned but she loved him. She was surprised to feel her phone vibrate against the table a few short minutes later. “Where are you at?”

“Close enough to be able to walk back or take a cab in an hour.”

“You’re in your last trimester, don’t you think you could have just hidden in my bedroom or something?” Molly rolled her eyes at him. 

“Your family is full of very resourceful people. I wanted to leave, so I did. I’ll text you when I am safely back inside the flat. You have work to do.” Sherlock didn’t comment but he uttered a quick, “Be safe” before hanging up. 

She expected him being very worrisome the moment he came home. She knew it wasn’t a bad thing that he was. They still had two weeks until she was supposed to have the baby. Which was a part of the reason she was being surrounded by Holmes’. Everyone wanted to have a say in nearly aspect that involved an heir to the Holmes.

Molly wanted nothing to do with it. She just wanted to have her and Sherlock’s child in peace and deal with everything else later. She had even told Sherlock about this which he later explained he was well aware of it. He explained that she needed to humor them. They would go away sooner rather than later.

Molly had for a time but now it wasn’t helping her or the baby much. She had the urge to throw very sharp things at people that already had things to say against her because she wasn’t more upper in the world. It also had something to do with some of the pain that she had been in lately too.

She had spoken with Mary Watson about it too. She had already had twins and seen over many deliveries so she knew a little more about babies and such. It wasn’t anything huge. False alarms really though another appointment with her OB told her that she did need to take it a little easier.

Molly decided that she would order a small dessert and another cup of tea before venturing back out into the world and back to the flat. She got up slowly, wincing a little at a small pain that hit her towards her side. She moved towards the counter and order a small chocolate covered pastry and another cup which the young man who was serving her offered to bring her to her table. Molly thanked him kindly as she fished into her bag to get out the money that she owed for her treat. 

The sound of the bell ringing over the door jingled and before Molly could count out her pay there were screaming and a gunshot that hit the clock that was on the wall behind the counter, directly to her left. She almost hit a man to her right when she whirled around shakily to see a man wearing a mask with a gun.

“Everyone get down, now.”

Molly swallowed heavily trying to will herself not to panic but this wasn’t an ideal situation. She couldn’t even get to her knees right now. It wasn’t because she couldn’t exactly, though that was part of it. It would take her at least a minute to get down onto the floor. There was another problem. There was liquid pooling down from between her thighs and now covering the floor. 

She took in a deep breath. No. She could not panic right now. Her eyes shut as she felt the first wave of pain hit her within the next few minutes. She leaned against the counter trying to focus on her breathing even though she could hear the gunman talking to her. 

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

Molly was in the middle of trying to formulate a plan that ended in her having her child within this very place without her fiancee so she really didn’t care much about the man who was coming towards her with a gun. Okay, maybe that was far from the truth but she let me know the problem he had now on his hand.

“If you hadn’t noticed, sir I’m a pregnant woman and you are now standing in my bodily fluid. I’ve gone into labor so you see I can’t follow your orders right now because I need to find the things I’m going to need in order for me to successfully have my baby in this cafe while I wait for my fiancee who if you didn’t know is a detective and will probably beat you into a bloody pulp if you dare lay a hand on me.” Molly finished in a huff as she started back panting trying not to show how terrified she was right now. 

The man seemed to hesitate as he looked down at his soiled footwear that indeed was covered with the clear fluid that covered the floor. He surveyed the other people in the room before holding the gun in the air as they began to speculate amongst themselves. “Alright. Who is a doctor around here?” When no one answered, he punched a table where a kid was sitting with his mother.

Molly watched horrified, she began to silently curse Sherlock Holmes for having priorities that didn’t fully pertain to family right now. All of this could probably be avoided. She really hated him right now. She knew that also wasn’t true but it was easier to focus on as she stumbled in the small space she had to move. The pain was almost bearable if she moved a little.

She wept openly. “Fine. I don’t need a doctor. I am one and for a time I learned about delivery.” She stopped talking as she leaned over and cried again. “I just need two people, warm towels and warm water and ice chips.” She stopped again as she reached a chair and sat down for a moment. Her body was burning with the contractions. They weren’t slow enough for her to be able to possibly wait it out. 

Molly had an idea that it might be because she felt anxious and afraid right now. “I need someone to contact my fiancee.” She muttered after another few rounds of pain. 

“Hey. No, lady ain’t no one contacting anybody until I get what I want. I am offering what you want to get your baby into the world but other than that no dice to be had.”

“What the hell do you want?” Molly growled as she hunched over, she could feel herself openly crying but she didn’t feel the effort to wipe the moisture from her face. She was trying not to cause too much of a scene. This was already too much. She was going into labor during a hostage situation. Nothing else could happen to make things worse, could it?

She opened not.

“Thomas,” Molly called, it was the name of the guy behind the counter who was making her order before the madman came in. “Please go get those things. I really don’t know how long this man is going to take." 

Thomas who looked just as frightened as Molly if not as worse for wear looked at her, gulped and then rushed to the back. Molly silently thanked him before turning her eyes back to the man who held a gun. “Okay. Maybe I can help you get what you want.”

"Lady are you mad?” One of the skinny dolls who were originally stationed at the counter muttered from the floor. The man quickly rushed over her and nearly begun to assault her when another guy who Molly assumed she was with stood up and made to have a go with the gunman.

Molly shut her eyes as she breathed. In. Out. In. Out. 

It wasn’t long before she felt something cool placed against her forehead and the familiar voice of Thomas whispering to her. “Miss Hooper, everything is going to be alright. I got in contact with someone. I’m gonna try to help you get comfortable, just in case.”

“I need to lay down somewhere, preferably not the floor.” She told him wearily, she gave him a short smile as he bent down towards her and slipped an arm around her. He gestured for her to hold onto him as he eased her up and directed her towards the opposite side of the cafe where there was less commotion and there was small couch vacant for the most part.

“This will do, I think?” He muttered before helping her sit. He rushed back to grab the towels and water, Molly had laid down by then. “I need you to go get a woman. I need someone who has done this before, Thomas.” Molly swallowed trying to focus on what she was saying and not the motions of what was going on inside of her. This buddy really wanted to come out. 

Thomas was gone in a flash and Molly only hoped that the other people made it out okay. She wished she was able to help them but currently she couldn’t even help herself much. Minutes past without aid form anyone. There were more shouting and loud crashing noises coming from the other side of the room. Molly tried to block it out but it became awfully difficult once a siren was heard outside. 

 _Thomas_.

“Who alerted the authorities, eh?” The heard the loud shriek of the man but soon Molly heard a biting remark from someone who she hadn’t heard from before and soon there was the sound of glass breaking. Molly whimpered where she sat hoping that someone would come to her soon. 

She was lucky to find Thomas and the woman who was sitting with her kid before glancing at her with pity. “You’re a damnable situation, sweetheart.” The woman told her softly as she went down to where Molly’s leg was and scooted them apart slightly to have a look. She told Molly that she had three kids and while she didn’t know anything about what she was looking at that soon she’d be ready to push. She just felt it.

Molly felt tired by the time it happened. There was a lot of shouting and gunfire going off and she had made many inquiries about the other people in there. The woman whose name is Xemna had merely told her, “Don’t worry about them. You have a baby nearly ready to pop out.” 

Molly was a worrier. It did not matter that she was in hell right now. She cared way too much. It was as she felt the urge to push that she began to openly expel her sadness over not having Sherlock near her while she was going through this. 

“Who the hell is this?” She heard loudly as she pushed just a little, as directed by Xemna. “Sherlock ‘olmes. Who are you? Shut your mouth. You don’t know anything.” The man sounded visibly pissed but Molly couldn’t help but smile shortly knowing that that was something of normalcy when it came to Sherlock and other people. 

“Molly Hooper, which one of you is Molly Hooper?” He stopped talking when there was a reply from the other side. “It would be the pregnant lass, wouldn’t it?” He muttered only for there to be a biting remark from the other side that silenced him almost instantly. He moved over to the couch where they had Molly and handed her the phone. “Hurry up.” He told her before turning away.

Thomas held the phone against Molly’s ear as she whispered, “Sherlock. Where are you?”

There was a static of chatter. “Just outside, Molly. I can’t get in. They won’t let me in.” She could hear the agitation in his voice. She could almost imagine the way he ruffled his hair as he paced around the asphalt. 

“I’m about to have the baby.” She panted.

“What? No. You can’t do that when I’m not there.”

“Fuck you.” She laughed a little as she heard Xemna tell her she needed to push now. “I gotta go.” She told him. Sherlock tried to keep her on the line. He didn’t want to miss this but Molly wasn’t a fan of him hearing her screams of agony as she pushed a human out of her vagina. “See you soon.” She told him before gesturing for Thomas to end the call.

There they were again with a man pointing a gun at Molly. “This might get pretty horrific. I don’t think you want to watch.” She muttered hurriedly trying to school her expression before looking over at Xemna who had the towels and a blanket that they had found ready so that she could catch the baby.

The man huffed before walking back, the phone once again on his ear. Molly ignored the shouts of protest as she began the extensive task of giving birth to her child with Thomas taking hold of her hand and Xemna giving her encouraging chants of “good, girl. yes. just a little more. oh, there’s the head. one more push, darling. c’mon.” In the end, Molly was a sweaty mess as she held her baby boy.

In the midst of the joy that circulated from that corner of the room came the rapid gunfire as the cops came through the windows breaking several of them and shooting the gunman point blank. It wasn’t too long before Molly found the face she hoped to see hours ago as he kneeled next to her and inspected their child just before the paramedics loaded both mother and child on a gurney and took the family towards the hospital for extensive care and a night of rest.

Molly could faintly remember Sherlock pressing kisses to her face in the ambulance on the way there and the way he marveled out what they created even if the little one had made an early appearance. All was well for them right up until Molly was woken up the next day but many enraged members of the Holmes family that did not include Mummy Holmes or Mycroft. They had come in earlier hoping to have a few moments alone with the newest addition to the Holmes clan. 

Mummy (Violet) had even been kind to Molly as she held the little girl who shared Molly’s doe brown eyes and Sherlock’s curls that shared a dark shade of red that was closer to Molly’s mother’s hair. Bless her resting soul. 

Mycroft who had stayed with the couple longer than expected had merely told the annoyingly upset gatherers to “leave and to expect a package in their homes when they got there.” It seemed he had compiled a small set of photographs of the family throughout the night and day and made a little gift out of it. His foresight into his own family made him feel it be a just thing to do.

Molly just gave him a grateful smile as she held little Emilie Vi Hooper-Holmes. Sherlock pressed a quick peck to her mouth while Mycroft watched, knowing he would be displeased but instead Mycroft gave a rare genuine smile at the scene of the mother, child, and father - the new little family. 

He would need to keep a close eye on them in the years to come. He would enjoy watching the change develop not only in the little one but in the brother that he had seen change slowly in the years since knowing Miss Molly Hooper. He hoped it would be a nice change. 

And, it was. 


	51. Jim & Moriarty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: after Sherlock deduces Jim from I.T. Molly tries to break up with him and he retaliates as Moriarty

**Originally posted on October 5, 2013**

* * *

 

Molly Hooper wasn’t perfect, she knew this. She had spent the better part of her life trying to live up to the expectation of others and sliding into a role of Ms. Dependable or Little Ms. Perfect as some had actually called her in her younger years. She didn’t regret any of her choices, but there were times when she wished for a do-over and falling for the charms of this man was one of them. 

He wasn’t Sherlock Holmes. She had never regretted her involvement with the consulting detective before but today she more than felt regret, she felt fear for not just herself but for anyone who knew Sherlock Holmes personally. 

Jim had been a nice guy - or so she thought. 

After the fiasco in the lab with Sherlock and his deductions of her boyfriend, Molly had decided to just end it. She told herself it wasn’t because of what he had revealed about Jim. It was because she knew that it wasn’t going anywhere and it never would. So, she planned to just walk away after tonight. Let him down easy and just leave him behind. Some would probably say she should have done this to Sherlock Holmes, but not everyone knew her Sherlock. The one that wasn’t the center of attention of merely everyone single tabloid magazine or the genius. He was a man behind that. A broken man who kept everyone at arm's length. Especially her.

She never asked him why he did that. Why he insisted on pushing her away with his sharp tongue but she refused to do what he wished her to do; to leave him behind. Perhaps that’s what had gotten her in this terrifying predicament in the first place but she wouldn’t let it stop her from going on, she had to.

They had been at the restaurant enjoying the meal. Enjoying their last meal together as the blissfully happy couple that she assumed they were for a time. It was getting closer to the end when she decided that if she didn’t do it now, she wouldn’t have the chance to (the nerve to). 

“Jim, this has been a really wonderful evening. I thank you for your company but I feel like this isn’t really working out. I mean, you’re lovely but I really think this might have been a mistake.”

She watched the way his face fell into what she thought was sorrow or disbelief as he wiped his mouth with his napkin, his eyes slowly trailed down onto the table before he straightened and gave her a smile. It wasn’t really there. “C’mon, let’s take a walk.” 

Molly was wary about it but followed him from the table after he laid a few bills down, he grabbed her hand on the way out and pulled her along with him when they were out. They were moving so fast that she had no clue what was happening until he had pushed (roughly) into a black SUV before hopping into the first passenger seat.

Molly’s paranoia slipped in at the moment the car went through a tunnel. They were headed to the opposite side of London than where she resided. It was further away from Bart’s and Baker Street which if she was honest was with herself was the safest place she could have wanted to be right now, and she really did wish she was. Despite the fact she had only been there a handful of times - mostly to bring limbs up for the detective and tea with Mrs. Hudson when she was leaving (merely moments after arriving, always). 

It didn’t take long for her to start asking questions. All unanswered until Molly was yanked out of the car by Jim when they came to an abrupt halt. Molly tried to pull her arm away but he only gripped it tighter as they walked down the street. “Why are you being like this, Jim?”

“You never truly mattered to him. Sherlock Holmes, I mean. You’re a tool, don’t you see?” He asked as they stopped and he pushed her against the hardness of the brick wall. His hand coming up to caress her cheek softly, he looked like the man she had spent weeks talking to and dating when she was available (only the three times). 

Molly shook her head fervently. “You’re just like all of them.” She choked out as she looked away from him, ignoring how wrong all of this felt. 

“No, sweetheart. I’m much worse.” His hand trailed down to her neck and it just hovered there for a moment before he sighed, gripping her clavicle and nearly breaking off her air supply. “You tell him that no one is safe. Tell him that Moriarty sends his love. He’ll understand what you mean.”

Molly eyes watered with tears, this was much worse than a simple breakup. This wasn’t what she wanted. She told herself an hour later when he was finished with her that it wasn’t her fault. This was what happened to people who were connected to Sherlock Holmes. Even the ones that weren’t considered important enough, they got hurt.

But as she slumped over against the wall of the underground station that she had slowly rushed down to after sobbing over everything that had happened with Jim. He was not the man she thought he was. He was as he said; worse. He had been right about another thing too, she was a tool to both of them (Moriarty and Sherlock) and that’s why as she sat there shaking searching for her mobile in her small bag on the grimy floor of the station that a part of her probably really hated Sherlock Holmes but he was the only one she needed to call. 

Jim had sent a message and now it was time for her to deliver it. 

x

Sherlock had been lounging in Baker Street watching crap telly when his own phone had begun to ring. He had his laptop in front of him and he was about to post a message to his player in this game of lives and bombs to meet up when it began to ring for the second time. He didn’t answer the first time.

He growled, answering it just as venomously without looking at the phone. “What?”

“S-Sherlock.” Sherlock paused a moment trying to collect his thoughts as he noted who the caller was mentally in order to proceed. 

“Molly.” He muttered, unsure of how to continue this conversation when there was a crying woman. The same woman he had upset earlier with his deduction of her significant other. Most women would probably stay as far away from him after that. Not Molly Hooper. She had this infatuation with him that made him both uncomfortable and pleased at the same time. She was quite different, he knew.

“I need…help.” She had seemed to try to calm herself a bit as she forced the words to come out of her mouth. 

Something had happened to her, obviously. He had not exactly placed her distress in any situation for her couldn’t see her but it was clear that she was calling him for some reason. “Tell me where you are.” 

There was a brief moment of silence where he could distinctly hear the sound of hurried conversation and doors sliding opening but it was still unclear. “An underground station. I’m not sure where exactly. Um…” She paused, “Ow. Looks like near Uxbridge. The sign says that…I think.” She sniffled. 

“Don’t move.” He stated before hanging up. 

…

It took him a good forty-five minutes to get to Molly. If he hadn’t known his way around the city it probably would have taken longer however, he had good resources. It took him five of those minutes to pick the quickest route. He almost missed her though, she looked different.

It wasn’t in the way most men neglected to notice a woman when she was dolled up. Instead, it was the tatter of her dress that struck him and how ruined she looked compared to the way she usually looked. She stood up shakily once she spotted him rushing through the crowd to her. He tried to get her to sit back down, Molly could swear she saw a flicker of concern on his face as slid his coat around her to shield her from the cool area. “Who did this to you, Molly?” He went straight to the moment. Molly almost smiled at how quick he was about it but feigned interest as she told him she wanted to go home.

Sherlock looked her over for probably the third time before sighing and ushering her into the open doors of the train. It would take some time to get back to Baker Street but he made sure they were sitting before making any more inquiries about her state. “You went on a date. With the IT person you brought into the lab earlier. Was it before or after you left…Jim, wasn’t it?”

Molly gnawed at her lip as she stared out the window on her right watching the flurry of the lights of the night illuminating the speed that they were traveling. “He called himself Moriarty. Said you’d know who he was and that I just needed to tell you “Moriarty sends his love”.” Molly’s shoulders raised as she blew out a large breath looking away from the window to look down at her fingers. “It was him…” She continued as she balled her hands into fists trying really hard not to start crying again but it was awfully hard with Sherlock staring at her.

She hadn’t had the heart to look at him and see every little flicker of his eyes as he pieced together what she didn’t tell him. There was enough evidence left for him to deduce it. 

Sherlock didn’t say anything for most of the journey but did upon their exit, take a moment to bundle her up in his coat more securely even though they would only have to walk little to get into 221 B. His fingers fumbling slightly as he buttoned it up before grabbing her hand and beginning to walk. 

Molly had stood there while he did what he wanted trying not to seem awkward about the fact he was blatantly touching her in some way. It was a nice gesture for him to cover her completely as to avoid the looks that people were to give her already for wearing his coat. Plus the added addition of him holding her hand as she trailed behind him down the street and into his flat. 

He dropped her hand then only pushing her up the steps when she had begun to unbutton the Belstaff. Molly sat on the couch while he made tea for her - another thing that she hadn’t thought he would do let alone be capable of doing for her. He was trying to make her comfortable. “You can shower after you tell me exactly what happened.”

Molly held the cup in her hands and started to ask him why he needed to know but thought better of it. He was already doing so much for her when he didn’t have to. He could have just left her there. This was much more than anything she could ever come up mentally. He was being kind. Actually being kind and seeming genuine about it. 

So, she sipped on the tea while he stood patiently - as patient as he could get (he started pacing after a few moments; restless) before she told him all that happened with broken sentences and sobs in places but he had all the facts. 

The only thing he said when she finished retelling the horrific night that she had was, “I’ll take care of it.” 

He went to his computer for a moment, looking up at her briefly to tell her where the bathroom was before resuming what he was doing. She got up and followed his directions. She found clothes when she came out hanging on the towel bar above the toilet. When she dressed in the clothes which she realized were probably his. They were too long to be John’s, regardless she felt safer. She trailed out to the main room to thank him for what he had done by simply showing up for her. He was gone.

Molly stood there for all of two minutes before she heard the chime of her phone going off in her bag which had been put on the coffee table. She walked over to it and retrieved it.

A new text message.

**First door past the bathroom. Rest. - SH**

**  
** Molly didn’t know if she should smile or what she needed to do but she followed his directions and found herself in Sherlock Holmes’ room if the periodic table on the wall was anything to go by. She smiled slightly as she carefully sat on the bed and touched the sheets which were neatly folded over - ready for someone to sleep in so she slowly slipped under and shut her eyes. Hoping that it would just be something of the past.

The next morning she heard the voices in a heated argument. John and Sherlock, bickering. She slowly slipped over to the door and pulled it open a crack. 

“He had a bomb on me, Sherlock. Then you threaten him, because of what? What was that about his "gift to you”? Why is there a torn dress in the bin?“

"John!” Sherlock shouted. “Could you just shut up for a second? I need to think.”

“Answer me, dammit!”

Molly sighed, knowing that it would probably be better for her to just come out and tell him that it was her fault because it was. She had called Sherlock and though she hadn’t the slightest clue what a bomb had to do with it but she knew things weren’t better today. It needed to be simplified for the doctor however since Sherlock wasn’t talking.

She slipped out into the front of the room. 

“It was my fault, John. Sorry…” She smiled falsely. Sherlock's head swiveled around from where he was standing by the mantel. 

“You should be resting, Molly,” Sherlock stated.

“I heard yelling.” She answered in a bored tone. She wasn’t bored in the slightest but felt it was better to pretend to be for John’s sake. 

Sherlock inhaled while steeling her with a look that she could only read as “Don’t speak” but she went on ahead and explain to John that she had gotten into an impossible situation and Sherlock had come to her aid which left time for what she expected was the whole situation with bombs and John. 

“He strapped a bomb to you?” She asked him, quietly as she stood to the side with her arms folded shifting from one foot to the other. 

“Yeah.”

“Makes sense since he was pretending to be sane when he really wasn’t.” Molly didn’t exactly tell John what happened only that she wasn’t dating Jim from IT anymore. She felt it was necessary to just leave it at that though she was such John knew about the identity of this Moriarty who was the same person. She just left it at that even though she was less than enthusiastic about keeping what happened to herself…and Sherlock who had obviously dealt with it. 

It wasn’t until a bit later when John had gone out and Molly had redressed into some clothes that actually fit her and belonged to her - Sherlock had gone to her place to fetch the most appealing thing he could find. He had standards, clearly. He sat down on the sofa with her (not beside her but near enough) that he told her. “You don’t have to worry yourself any more about him. You’re safe.”

Molly didn’t believe it at the time. Nor was she happy nearly a year later when they found themselves in a more dire situation with Jim Moriarty waving all his cards at them. Except Molly wasn’t in danger - as he said, it was Sherlock and Molly was there to pay him back for what he did even if he deleted the memory from his hard drive. 


	52. Left Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: It's time for John & Sherlock's annual Christmas party. Sherlock is hurt when Molly brings everyone a present except for him.

**Originally posted on October 6, 2013**

* * *

Christmas was a trifling affair where people spent time with the people they cared for gave them gifts to show their continuing affection and sometimes it was full of utter disappointment. Sherlock Holmes showed little interest in the occasion for merely all of his life, especially when there were presents involved. He didn’t see the point in them but it didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate them. Especially when one came from one Molly Hooper.

However, there seemed to be a change this year. One he did not like in the slightest. Molly came to the Christmas party has she had done before except there was no gift for Sherlock and while she hadn’t realized it, it had put him in a rather befuddled and foul mood. He expected gifts from her and in fact, had gone to a shop and bought her something to show how much he did appreciate her presence in his life.

It was more than a thank you gesture, he had gotten it specially made for the pathologist and he hoped to just be able to give it to her in exchange for one of her own. So, it made his plans a little difficult when everyone else had received one while she hadn’t. 

She had looked at him and clearly read his discontentment and walked straight over to him in her jumper and trouser - she dressed comfortably this year, and quickly begun to tell him why she didn’t think she had to put up the effort this year. “You don’t like gifts. I thought you wouldn’t mind if I got you one since what happened…last time.” She trailed off awkwardly. Her eyes glazed over a little at the mention of that horrendous time when Sherlock made a complete fool of both of them.

However, things had been different lately. There was no danger and there were new matters at hand in their personal lives. John had a wife and wasn’t necessarily a constant presence at Baker Street. Molly had moved from her place she had before finding a home in the countryside that reminded her of home though she had a smaller place in the city thanks to Mycroft he seemed to think Molly needed two places even though she managed just find navigating her way to work and to her house every day. It was his own kind of gift to her however it was given a few weeks prior to her birthday. Sherlock was different and so was Molly but they weren't estranged or anything like that. Some expectations weren’t there anymore.

“I bought you something.” He told her after a few moments of silence.

“What? Oh, now I feel bad.” Molly told him as he turned and walked towards the desk where John’s laptop sat opened playing music. He unlocked the drawer there and looked down into the drawer. There inside was Molly’s previous gift to him which he had sort of opened but other than left untouched and then there was the one he had placed in there a few weeks ago.

It was a black case tied with a blue ribbon. He took it out and locked the drawer back before walking back over to Molly who was sipping her wine, waiting for him. Everyone else was watching them, of course. Sherlock completely ignored them as he handed it to Molly, taking her glass out of her hand so that she could open it properly. 

“It isn’t completely beneath me to return pleasantries.” He said loud enough for everyone to hear as they were gawking entirely too much. That just laughed good-humouredly and went back to discussing other things, giving Sherlock and Molly a small window of privacy. 

She peered up at him as she inspected the box which she held in her hand not yet opened. “You didn’t have to get me anything.” She started.

“If you don’t like it you can return it, Molly.” He chided taking a sip out of her glass. He wasn’t in the slightest bothered that she had already drunk from it. He merely twisted it around so that he wouldn’t have her lip-stain on his mouth. He wasn’t a drinker really, he had scotch a few times. He drunk the wine to taste it. It was an interesting taste. 

Molly smiled at him before tugging at the ribbon and making sure to catch it in her hand as she lifted the lid of the case. Inside there was a necklace that held an anatomically correct heart that was small enough to be concealed made of silver. It was a locket and Molly removed it and opened it up, smiling when she read the message that was branded on the left side. 

 **Thank you for taking care of mine**. 

On the right side, there was a familiar photo of the two of them snapped as they were running away from a madman with a sniper. It had been one of the few times Molly had been with him in the past year that he was on a case. One of the paparazzi’s had caught them as they rushed past. Sherlock wrapped his hand around hers, making sure she didn’t fall behind. 

“Thank you, Sherlock.” She whispered before stepping closer to him and throwing her arm around his shoulder giving him a hug. She whispered to him lowly, “You’re welcome. Always, I promise." 

He surprised her by pecking her on the mouth before she stepped back. Molly grinned before asking him to help her put it on. He did with everyone once again watching them with curiosity.

Sometimes the best presents were the reaction of the person you were giving to. Sherlock felt it turned out better than he expected and hoped next year would be even better, he would try to make sure that it would be. 


	53. Being Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MorbidbyDefault asked: Molly gets a super bad migraine while at the lab one day, and Sherlock surprises her by taking care of her and whatnot.

**Originally posted October 6, 2013**

* * *

Her head felt like it was being sawed at or being hit with a hammer repeatedly. Possibly both at the same time. It was worse than she was supposed to be finishing a large stack of paperwork that had built up over the past few days from this and that - autopsies and lab work that needed to be noted and checked over before she filed it. 

Sherlock was in the lab today but he hadn’t asked for her assistance so she stayed put in her office trying to stay away from the harsh bright lights of the place. The dim lighting in her office was causing her pain already, it just wasn’t something she wanted to intensify especially by moving to a better lit room.

So, after signing one of the autopsy reports she put her pen down and let out a groan of agony. Placing her hands over her face and rubbing at her temple as if that would help to numb the pain she was currently enduring. It only made her want to sob even more but she refrained, letting out a sigh trying not to be such a baby about it. She just hated being in pain. 

Migraines were the worst. Especially when she couldn’t just leave. She had put this work off for quite some time and needed to just suck it up and finish it so that she could go home and rest. 

Soon enough she had succumbed to the idea of taking a little reprieve and placed her head on her desk away from the pages of files. Her pen thrown to the side as she sought relief with her eyes closed and her arms covering any possible space that could let light invade into her senses. 

This is how Sherlock found her when he realized he did need her assistance with a particular portion of the experiment he was trying to do. He needed more hands - hers to begin the process while he was waiting at the endpoint with the result within his sights. However, his face set into a frown when he found his pathologist sitting there absolutely tense. He waited for a beat as he observed her for signs of problems. He walked over to her when he heard the slight whimper seep out of her mouth as she raked her fingers through her hair pulling it out of the ponytail she had it in. 

She sighed lifting her head only to see Sherlock standing there. “What?” She said, quietly.

He said nothing as he turned around and walked out of her office. She eyed the door curious but went back to moaning as another pulse of pain met her cranium surging from around her neck straight up to her temple. This was getting out of hand and she hated it.

She thought about just leaving her work and telling her boss that she was gonna have to leave early but take a double another night. However, she thought better of it and sat back down only to be greeted by Sherlock shoving a cup in her direction. “What is this?" 

"Water. Take these too.” He said handing her two capsules.

She smiled at him faintly telling him thanks as she knocked back the medicine. She sat there for a moment before placing her head back on the table and sighing. She didn’t hear Sherlock for a while, thinking he had left when she felt fingers pushing back her hair and giving her head an oddly relaxing massage treatment.

She began to care less that she was probably enjoying this more than she should but he never did this for her. Ever. He would tell her to suck it up. “Why are you being kind to me right now?” She asked him slowly as another wave of pain shot to the left side of her head. She tensed up a moment, Sherlock stopped his menstruation for a moment before resuming. 

“You’ll be no help to me if you can barely hold your head up.”

“Gee, thanks.” She muttered half-heartedly as she allowed him to proceed in silence.

“I just mean if I was a normal man and even though you’ve told me many times that I am just with larger storage space for intellect I would probably have said, "I don’t enjoy seeing you in pain”. Does that help ease the blow?“ Molly smiled a little knowing he was trying even though everything sounded so disconnected coming out of his mouth because this was not something he did. He was trying his best and that counted. 

"Yes, thank you.” She replied this time genuinely. “I probably need some sleep. The nightmares have returned.” She told him somberly. 

Sherlock retracted his hand and sat on the edge of her desk. “Are they the same?” He swallowed knowing that it was partly his fault. If he hadn’t have asked her to do such a difficult thing she wouldn’t be hindered by the heinous nightmares where a sniper was after her because she kept his secret. It didn’t matter that he was back and everyone was safe. Molly still had her own scars to deal with. 

“Sometimes. Other times its just darkness.”

“No dreams?”

“No, I mean I’m trapped in darkness.” She commented lifting her head a bit. “It shouldn’t still be happening.” She whispered. 

“I know. Mycroft has been thinking of getting a specialist.”

“For me?”

“Yes. I asked him to.”

“Why?”

“I don’t wish to harm you anymore.”

“You’re not.”

“I am unconscious with those nightmares. I want you to be well, Molly.”

“It’s not something you or I can control. I’m sure it will end soon enough.”

“It’s been four months.”

“I never really processed your death.”

“Because you knew the truth.”

“Can we just talk about this when my head doesn’t feel like it’s coming apart at the seams?” She pleaded with him. Sherlock was quiet for a moment before brushing her hair away from her face. “Yeah, I’ll be right back." 

Sherlock was gone for what felt like an hour and Molly had dozed off somehow. Perhaps it was the medicine. Sometimes medicine even pain relievers had strange effects on her. When he came back he woke her up. "What, I was sleeping…” She yawned.

“Good. Now, we’re gonna take you home. You can save this for another day.” He told her pulling her up on her feet. She leaned on his shoulder as they walked towards the door. Sherlock reached for her bag and slung it over his shoulder as they headed out. He had realized that on his trek out that perhaps Molly was right, she did need to rest and she couldn’t sleep comfortably at her desk or at her own place so he took the liberty of getting a room for her in a hotel - one of the very bests of course. 

Molly wasn’t too surprised but took it as this odd occurrence of Sherlock’s kindness and allowed him to get her into the dark room and into bed without her jacket and shoes or socks and she stayed there for two days sleeping mostly. When she woke she ate and helped Sherlock finish her forms. He was surprisingly good at forging her handwriting. She would not let him forge her signature, however. She was still trying to get back in the good graces of the board of director’s at Bart’s. 

“Thank you.” She told him as they were leaving the hotel for a late lunch at Angelo’s with Mary and John Watson. 

“Anything for my pathologist.” He grinned cheekily.

He really was a good man when he wanted to be.


	54. Scars [Mind The Notes Please]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous: Sherlock finds out Molly suffers from depression/self harm and he makes her better (fluffiness ensues hint hint)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It goes without saying to proceed with caution with this one. I'm not surprised this one originally only got 4 notes. Self-harm/Depression is a hard way to live. *speaking from experience here*
> 
> Just a reminder that if you do struggle that you are loved, and things will be okay in time. <3

**Originally posted October 6, 2013**

* * *

 

He had initially wanted to shake her for thinking that marring up her skin in this way was okay. He knew he wasn’t one to talk seeing as he had track marks from previous episodes of shooting up in a drug craze. Many years of doing so in fact but he did not want this for his pathologist and friend of almost ten years. He wanted her to be happy and to smile. He enjoyed seeing her smile - he realized when he discovered her in a heap on the floor of their shared bathroom for this trip.

She hadn’t done it. Hadn’t cut herself today but he could see the lines along her arms and legs as she pulled at her hair and sobbed like she was physically in pain. She kept saying “I’m sorry” over and over again but he ignored it as he knelt down in front of her. Pushing the razor blade away from her reach and pulling her into his arms. 

He shushed her as he cradles her in his arms. He repeatedly told her that it would be fine and that she was perfectly fine. It was just a misstep and he would help her through it because he had been there before. He continued to talk to her telling her funny stories he could think of to calm her down while she held onto him trying to get words in but failing several times because he wasn’t having it right now. 

Eventually, they moved to the bedroom where they lay, him with his arms wrapped around her as she lay there quietly now. She didn’t say anything but she lay there listening to the hum of his voice as he hummed what she figured was a composition but she couldn’t recognize the piece. 

“What is that?”

“A part of something I was writing for you.” He admitted as Molly turned around his arms.

“Why?” Her voice cracked as she stared up at him, eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“Because you are perfect to me and the only way I know how to express how I"m feeling fully is to compose. It’s been just sitting there for years wanting to be released.”

“Now was the time for it, you think?”

“Now more than ever.” He told her twirling a lock of her hair in his hand. “You are a part of me and I need you to keep going.”

“It’s not easy, Sherlock.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I know but please just let me be here for you while you work it out.”

“I can manage that, I think.” She breathed pushing herself into the crook of his neck and holding onto him because what he thought was something small of him to do (“composing for her”) was something that made her feel a little less achy at least for right now. “I love you.” She told him, quietly.

“I know.” He told her, pressing her tightly to him. 


	55. Covert Op

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: during the three years Sherlock has been gone he's kept sporadically kept in touch with Molly. He finds out John has started dating Mary and he convinces Molly to take him undercover as his date so he can deduce her (John never realizes it's him)

**Originally posted on October 7, 2013**

* * *

Molly had gotten used to the odd messages she would receive every couple of months from an unknown sender. They were never texts but always placed somewhere that she would find it. Sometimes in Bart’s in her locker or sent with a small package usually containing some small trinket which she could have viewed as a present but did not for very obvious reasons. Sherlock Holmes was dead and this was his way of ensuring her that he was still alive and possibly giving her a small hint as to where he had been. It had only happened a few times, however.

The first message she received was typed on a blank card and had a time and place. No date. She had merely gone to the location on the day and waited to see what awaited her there. It wasn’t Sherlock but she had been given a phone by a woman she didn’t know. She wasn’t dressed to impress, she wore street clothes and was chewing gum during the transaction. She also handed over a piece of torn paper only telling her, “Wait for the call then follow the instructions on the paper”. The woman had got up and left her after that and Molly had sat there for fifteen minutes before the phone rang. She calmly looked around - the phone ringing twice before she picked it up.

This time it was Sherlock but with a slightly altered voice. He was using a machine but made no sudden information that would tell her or anyone who happened to be listening who was on the line with her. Molly did her best not to ask too many questions and complied with answering his when he asked. At the end of the call he caught her off guard by saying, “You look good, Molly.” Then the call ended. 

She had nearly jumped out of her seat at the time but she did her best to not seem startled as she took the piece of paper and did what it said. It was a burner phone and she was to toss it in the bin that was a few blocks away then grab the order of biscuits and coffee that had been ordered by “Thomas Lewis” at the cafe that she would pass before she got to the main street where the intersection has begun.

The other four times she would simply find an envelope somewhere or a package but there weren’t any more phone calls or illusions to the idea that Sherlock had been near her enough to see how she looked. It didn’t leave her with much room for hope. She felt that that was good. It helped with her own disguise she had up when it came to the others in her life that happened to be apart of his own. 

This time however Sherlock Holmes had surprised her while she was getting ready to go out for quick lunch with John and Mary (John’s girlfriend of a few months). She had been about to slip on her shirt when he slipped through her window. It had been locked, she had checked before. 

“What the hell?” She exclaimed as she finished pulling her shirt over her head and turned around to him. Sherlock had a curious expression on his face, his eyes blinked as he tried to reel his head in from the small peek it had at Molly’s body before he strode over to her. “You’re going out with John and his new friend right now, take me with you.”

“Sherlock, what are you doing here?”

“I need to check her out.”

“You’re dead which part of that don’t you understand. You can’t just go with me to see your best friend and deduce her as if you were still living in the public eye. It just won’t work.”

“I have a disguise ready. I’ll be your date. Please, Molly, I need to make sure he’s being careful.”

“He is. Trust me.” She insisted as she pushed his hands off her shoulders. He had grabbed her and she was starting to grow a bit too comfortable with the idea. 

“I do…trust you. I would like to see it first hand. It’ll make me feel better.”

Molly looked at him, smiling slightly. “How’d you get into my window?” She asked as she twirled away from him, her hair which was down whipped him in the chest as she strode over to her closet to grab her shoes and sat on the bed. Sherlock sat next to her.

“I was here earlier in the day when you were at Bart’s.”

“Why?” Molly turned to him as she tied up her oxford’s. 

“Your place is safer than most. Plus as you know you’re the only one who knows of my existence. I needed to speak with you so I broke in so to speak. Then I left it opened a bit so that I could come back in when you were around. I have not been here all day, however.”

“Good.” She commented, standing to her feet. “What is our cover? John doesn’t think I’m dating anyone so how are you going to make this work? What is your disguise?" 

"Beyond my dyed hair, obviously.” He remarked as he walked over to her vanity and opened the drawer. His hair was a reddish brown that was almost on its way to ginger but not quite. He grabbed the specs that he had discovered during the two weeks he had stayed with her prior to his fall and placed them on his face. Then slipped over to her closet and grabbed a clothing bag. Inside was a brown air force pilot jacket.

“You’ve clearly thought this through…” Molly laughed as Sherlock turned back around to show her his complete transformation. “I have contacts that I will slip in before we go even though I have the frames. I have been told I have a very distinct eye color.” He grinned, looking at Molly’s expression of admiration with great pleasure. At least he knew he would be able to fluster her a bit tonight. “Our cover is rather delicate…" 

x

"How long have you known Molly, Austen?” John asked as they all settled down into their small table. Sherlock had completely transformed by the time they arrived at the quaint cafe that sat close to his former residence. He had put on a wonderful show for Mary and John as he walked towards them alongside Molly with his hand wrapped around hers. He had even pulled her chair out for her after introductions were being made.

“Not entirely long. A few weeks tops. We met at the book store near the airport.” He had pulled off a very southern accent. He had even made it lighter than his normal vocal range. “She’s been very lovely to me as I make my transition here for the few weeks I have left.”

“You’re here on a mission?” Mary asked she was most certainly intrigued by this man. He was an American in her eyes though he held himself with enough care to not be what she had come to expect of the people on the other side of the pond. 

“Of sorts. I’m helping an old friend at the base with new recruits. Not all play, I’m afraid that I am enjoying this wonderful city with Molly when I can.”

Molly beamed at him when he turned to her, lifting her hand that he had been holding over the table and pressing his lips to it while holding her gaze. He grinned when he saw the look of utter admiration and delight from the couple on the other side of the table. It made him smiled a bit more when he saw the red tinge that marked up Molly’s face as his mouth met her hand.

“Well, that’s good enough for me I suppose. I was rather surprised to hear she was seeing someone. She hadn’t mentioned anyone.” John said, eyes flickering to Molly who was trying to recompose herself at that small sign of affection from “Austen”. 

“Sorry, I just didn’t want to admit to something that I don’t know if will have any lasting effects. Austen quite nice company.” She giggled trying not to sound so inorganic but failing because it’s just how she was about anything. Add on the fact that there were alternative motives at work (i.e. her not really boyfriend). 

“I’m happy for you, Molls.” Mary beamed. Sherlock had noticed upon their introduction that Mary and Molly seemed to be rather chummy with each other. The woman and practically tackled her with affection upon seeing her and now she genuinely was hopeful that Molly had moved on from him. He couldn’t say this was a bad thing, entirely. Though there was a certain twinge in his chest at the thought of this actually happening. It shouldn’t bother him. He wanted Molly to be happy. 

The lunch went over without any true hiccups from either party and they all promised to meet again sometime in the future as long as their careers allowed it to. John had gone back to practicing at the clinic and Mary was teaching in the area at one of the public schools. It was on their walk back to Molly’s flat that Molly went to hear the verdict.

“What do you think?” Molly didn’t comment on the fact that Sherlock still had his arm wrapped around her shoulder and held her close enough that it normally would make him uncomfortable. Sherlock pretended that this was normal for him and he answered her inquiry. 

“She’s lovely, just as you said. She has hopes for you that she’ll want to discuss the next time the two of you are alone. But, she’s good for him. I’m sure she’ll make a suitable wife when the time comes.”

Molly couldn’t help to tact onto the solemn tone his deduction held which made her stop him at a corner where they needed to stop anyway for the crosswalk. “Things are bound to change when you get back but I think it’ll be a nice change for the two of you. You’ll still have your blogger and best friend just maybe not as much as you want. Don’t ruin it, okay? Everyone has to make adjustments. You are no different.”

Molly had stepped in front of him and pulled his head down so that she was sure he was paying attention to what she said. She watched as he visibly gulped. “And, are you adjusting Molly Hooper?”

Molly knew what he meant and smiled waterily, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “As best as I can. Don’t you worry? Don’t say you’re not because I know you do, even when you don’t want to.”

“I meant what I said before.” He started pressing his mouth to her forehead gently. “You are wonderful company, Molly Hooper." 

Then the only thing left was the wind and Molly breathed it in for all of ten seconds before continuing on her trek alone back to her home. 


	56. For Her Honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: Molly comes in one day acting a bit odd and Sherlock deduces from bruises (that she was trying to hide) that Molly has acquired an abusive boyfriend. He kicks his ass and has a fluffy love moment with Molly.

**Originally posted on Oct 7, 2013**

* * *

The signs were all there. How could he be so blind? From the way she would avoid the gazes of practically any man that tried to engage with her. To the more frumpy and long-sleeved clothes that she had worn. The frumpiness wasn’t much of a difference but she has gotten newer clothing that wasn’t so unappealing and been wearing for some months. 

Something had changed to make her revert back into the way she was before she had the minimal boost of confidence. It was almost startling. 

He had just called her name, hoping to be able to get her to grab some coffee for him while he waited for the tests to finish when she squeaked at him. Like a mouse only to quickly cover it up by placing her hand over her chest and pretend that she had been startled which he didn’t exactly believe to not be genuine. Molly was definitely that if not anything else. 

He pushed the stool back as he circled around the table and walked up to her despite the fact that she was avoiding his gaze again and trying to go back to her paperwork. “Yes, Sherlock?” She stated once he was near enough that she wouldn’t have to shout. 

“You’re wearing makeup.”

“Women often do that, Sherlock.” She giggled, looking up at him. Her smile fell as his eyes honed in on the problem. She had smeared it in a hurry and the jumper she was wearing had risen up a bit, sliding off her shoulder. She was quick about readjusting her clothing and looking down. 

She sighed, “What do you need, Sherlock?” She tried again hoping he would just let it go. He did not, of course. 

“Tell me his address." 

"Sherlock…” She started.

“Molly. Tell me.” He said, turning her face so that she was looking at him. She looked sad and full of shame. He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t her fault. Some men were just cruel. 

She sighed before grabbing his hand and scribbling down the address with her pen that she had forgotten. Sherlock didn’t say anything but he strode off, seemingly out of the lab and to see this boyfriend of hers to treat him a lesson. There were reasons why people feared Sherlock Holmes. There were several more reasons why people didn’t mess up with anyone who was associated with him, either.

His name was Bill and he lived in a wealthy upkeep set of condos on the west side of London. He was an accountant that had muck all the way through his books and apparently enjoyed hitting women strictly because he was down on his luck. He also was a bit of a charmer but Sherlock was one too. That was how he found out which condo was Bill’s and he broke down the door and tackled the man who was in the middle of coitus with another woman who was definitely not Molly Hooper. 

He swiftly punched the man several times in the face as the woman stood idly behind screaming bloody murder. Literally. Sherlock ignored her for a few minutes as the man begged him to stop. “He’s a cheater and an abusive partner, you probably wouldn’t want to stick with him. He’s hurt someone who I happen to be quite fond of.”

“What are you onnn!” Bill started to say, enraged by this bloke who had just started assaulting him. The last one growing strangled as Sherlock wrapped his arms around his scrawny neck. “Molly Hooper. She’s a pathologist at St. Bart’s Hospital. You hit her. There are bruises to show and I do not take kindly to men who harm my friends. Especially not a woman who doesn’t know a thing about self-defense. So you, need to shut up before I actually kill you.”

The man was nearly turning purple when Sherlock let him go. “Call the cops. I have a feeling he will need an ambulance when this is all over.”

He did, indeed. “Seventeen broken bones and a concussion. The woman was practically cowering by the time we got there. Sherlock, what the hell did he do to you?”

“Nothing. He harmed Molly Hooper. That was something.” Sherlock growled before walking away from Lestrade who merely nodded, seeing justice at what lay left of this Bill Simmons.

Molly was starting to grow worried. Already having taken her lunch and finished three autopsies before getting ready to leave the hospital. She hadn’t seen Sherlock since before her lunch. She really hoped he hadn’t gotten himself killed. Bill wasn’t exactly kind to her at least but Sherlock was capable enough. She knew she shouldn’t have worried so much especially with the idea that Sherlock Holmes was going after a man for her of all people.

She found him waiting for her outside when she stepped out of the hospital. He gestured for her to take his arm, which she did reluctantly and they walked down the street. “Seventeen broken bones and a concussion. I think that was good enough for the moment.”

Molly didn’t know what she should say. Thank you for breaking down a man who had beaten her mercilessly for a time. Thank you for saving me from a worse fate. She could have literally said anything but she didn’t think she would be able to do it without getting emotional about it so instead, she stood on her toes and peck his cheek.

That was more than enough repayment, she thought. The smirk on his face told her a lot. Was he blushing too? She giggled as he escorted her home, listening to him describe the affair in detail just for her amusement though she could have gone without it. He was still Sherlock and he had already done a lot for today. This was just his way of not feeling strange about it.

Besides, he sounded overjoyed as he told her about it. She couldn’t stop him even if she wanted to. She didn’t, just for the record. 


	57. A Different Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: Sherlock exits the flat to go out on a case, only to be stopped by a bloodied and bruised woman curled up on the front steps to 221. It takes him a moment, but he finally realizes it's Molly.

**Originally posted on October 8, 2013**

* * *

It was at least a seven and a half. He had already had a feeling about it without knowing all the specifics. His hope was that it would keep him busy for the week that he had left without the companionship of his best friend who was off on what he called a sabbatical but was ultimately a vacation away from Sherlock with his missus. 

Sherlock did not mind, entirely. That was also a lie that he was feeding himself as he buttoned up his suit and strode over to the door. It wasn’t cool enough to take his Belstaff, he thought bitterly as he bypassed it to rush down the steps and towards the door. He yelled to let Mrs. Hudson know he was leaving before opening the door and beginning to shut it as he stepped out only make it past two of the eight steps when he was blocked off by a figure curled up along the rest of the way. 

Unlike most people, he wasn’t a complete coward when it came to dealing with the homeless. In fact, he found them intriguing. They knew more than most people and that was good for him. He was in a bit of a hurry, however, so he was quick to crouch over and shove at the person only for a small strangled whimper to slip from their mouths. 

Sherlock pulled his hand back slowly and really looked over the form of the body that was sitting in a rather uncomfortable position he might add, and he was quick to make a grab at her and hoist her up the steps and into the foyer. “Mrs. Hudson!” He screamed, panicking as his mind did away with the blood and grime that wasn’t usually coating the small woman he had in his arms. 

“Molly…” He whispered softly, disbelief in his tone as his landlady rushed out of her flat with a look of annoyance on her face for a moment before she took in the situation. “What in the world has happened to the poor dear…wait, who is this?”

“Molly Hooper. She was on the steps when I walked out.” He failed to tell her that he almost didn’t notice it was her but left that to himself, as he started to walk up the steps. “I need you to run a bath for her while I try to fix this the best that I can." 

"Sherlock…” Molly choked as she tried to talk to him through her blurry eyes. There was blood spewing out of her mouth and Sherlock made a mad dash towards the kitchen and cleared away a section of the counter in order to get to the sink and lean her head over so that she could spit it out. 

He should have probably used one of the small trash bins that were by the desk but he was thinking on his feet. His hand reached out to brush her hair from her face while he held onto her waist as she continued to spit out the red fluid. It wasn’t all entirely blood some looked to be water. What had happened to her?

Molly’s hand made to turn on the water and she filled her hand with it, cupping it in a small well before sipping a bit. She leaned back against him for a few minutes before beginning to talk again. “Where’s John?” Her voice was awfully scratchy, he noted but filed it away as he led her over to the bathroom where Mrs. Hudson was waiting with her bath.

“Molly, dear. What’s happened to you?” She wept as Sherlock guided her carefully into the bathroom. 

“Mrs. Hudson.” Molly gave her a smile despite the fact that she was very red in the face from all the blood and the bruises that sat along the rest of her that was visible at least. “They dropped me off here.” She told both of them.

“They?” Sherlock inquired as Molly began to strip right there while she had eyes on her. Talking seemed to make her a little less shaky even though it didn’t make the detective feel any better to discover her the way she did. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks. I think.” She told him as leaned on the wall as she stepped into the tub.

Mrs. Hudson had left to see if she could find some clothes for Molly as her other ones were definitely not salvageable. “It looks pretty bad, Molly,” Sherlock remarked as he came and sat on the edge of the tub as Molly sunk down into the water. 

She stayed under for about two minutes before coming back up to Sherlock dabbing her face with a warm towel. She inhaled sharply as he brushed it across her face. Perhaps, it wasn’t as bad as he thought. Her face had little cuts on it but it wasn’t the cause of the large amount of blood she was covered in. 

“Most of my injuries are probably internal. The blood came from the other body.”

Sherlock waited patiently for Molly to emphasize. “I’ll tell you everything after I get out of the bathroom.”

“You killed someone.” He said, standing up. He watched her as she began to soap up her arms and throat scrubbing vigorously before standing and taking care of the other areas. He turned away though it wasn’t necessary. He had seen her naked before and she had seen him, obviously. But, privacy was still a matter and he didn’t wish to corrupt it when he knew so little about the matter.

“Yes.” She told him. It had been about ten minutes of scrubbing and then Molly was stepping out with a towel wrapped around her body and walking towards Sherlock. “It was one of theirs. He was trying to get information from me about John. I don’t know why exactly but they wanted to know where he had gone and would do nearly anything to find out what I knew. I hadn’t known he had left so I was of no use but they knew what to use against me. I’m an easy target.” She laughed lightly as Sherlock turned around and inspected her up and down looking for any injuries that he would need to cover up.

She was bruised mostly but there was a particularly harsh gash in her leg that hadn’t gotten much time to heal in the water so he pulled her towards his room and cut on the lap before telling her to sit. He went towards the door where Mrs. Hudson was coming back with clothes and an extra first aid kit even though they had one in Sherlock’s flat. 

He might have not known where but he knew there was one around. 

Molly was looking at her thigh when he returned. He tossed her one of the shirts so that she wasn’t just sitting there in the towel. Molly gave him a small smile as he busied himself with the first aid kit at the small desk in his room while she put the top on and walked over to where he was. 

Sherlock turned to her and stared at her with a blank expression but Molly could tell there was something on his mind. She didn’t know what but he was thinking. She waited to see if he would let her in on anything even though she knew it was rather unlikely. She prepared herself for all the questions he would have though, there would be many.

She was not prepared for him to grab her around the waist and hoist her onto the table. His hand leaving her briefly as he reached for the needle and thread. “All I’ve got.” He told her and she went to reach out for it when Sherlock sat down and scooted over so that he was close to her leg and gripped it in his hands as gently as possible before piercing one side of the wound with the needle. 

Molly bit her lip as she reached out and grabbed his arm. The last thing she wanted was for Sherlock Holmes to sew her up but it was happening and it hurt more than it should have. It was deeper than she had thought. Sherlock focused on the task at hand instead of the fierce grip of Molly’s nails digging into his arm. 

When he was done he bit off the excess thread and applied gauze and tape to it before looking up at her. Molly noticed he seemed to look a little less tense. “I’ll have Mrs. Hudson contact the resort John went to so that he will know to be on the lookout for any strange people lurking around. He’s a very capable man, you don’t have to worry so much.”

“I’m more worried about Mary.” Molly scoffed as she went to get down off the desk only for Sherlock to grip her leg again making her bite down on her lip again. “Can you stop doing that?”

“Where were you one when you were assaulted?" 

"I had just left the market and was about to head home to make dinner when they cornered me. I had tried to run but there were too many of them. Five exactly at the time, only two remaining when I was dropped back here.”

“You killed three.”

“Not exactly.”

“I killed one. He was trying to…he was trying to…” Molly couldn’t get the words out as she looked down at her hands. Sherlock hands came up and wrapped around hers. He didn’t say anything to comfort her but it was enough for her. It kept her from crying in front of him. “Anyways, I took his knife from his pocket and cut his jugular while he was preoccupied. Then I fled and met with another one of them. He was taken down by one of his own on accident, the other one was going for me and I had to fight that one off for a time before I was knocked out by the two I presume brought me to Baker Street. I woke up there when you shoved me.”

“What do they want with John?”

“I’m not sure. They said something about their boss being an old friend of his. From the military I think, I never met the guy.”

Sherlock nodded. He stood after a moment, scooping her up in his arms again and taking her over to the bed. He moved the sheet aside before dropping her down onto it. “Get some rest. It’ll be sorted soon.” 

There was no kiss of any kind, he just said that and left. Molly expected as much and did her best to forget all that happened today and curled up in a ball and tried to sleep. She spent three hours away just laying there alone in Sherlock’s bed. Then the door opened and Sherlock was there sitting in the bed beside her. The only thing he said was, “You’re restless. I can hear you from the kitchen. Try to get some rest, Molly.” Sherlock murmured as he combed his hands through her hair trying to help soothe her thoughts.

It worked at least. 

While he sat there he waited for a text to come through from any of the people he had sent out to do his bidding while he was preoccupied with Molly. Lestrade had gotten in touch with him briefly and then there was a text from Mycroft inquiring why he let a soiled woman into his house. Then came the message from John Watson via Mrs. Watson.

She texted in a differently than John. 

**We’re okay and on our way back. There was a small incident but it got resolved quickly enough. I expect there won’t be many vacations like this for a while. Thanks. - JHW**

**  
** Sherlock smiled at the small sign of gratitude at the end but otherwise ignored the rest of it. They were safe and that was what mattered. He looked down at the woman who was curled up at his side once more. She had saved them again. Unfortunately, she had been harmed in the debacle but he left it alone as he watched her snooze for a little while. She looked lovely when she was at peace. 

It was good.


	58. Kicking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: Sherlock feels his and Molly's baby kick in the womb for the first time.

**Originally posted on October 10, 2013**

* * *

Molly had been resting at the time. She had been going to all kinds of baby-related events - most of them surrounded the Holmes family and hearing their opinions about what was good and what wasn’t for this new heir to the Holmes family. Molly had put her foot down for the first time in the company of any of them apart from Sherlock and told them all that this wasn’t their child that was coming into the world. It was hers and Sherlock and they would do what was best for their child. 

While she ended up a shaking and overwhelmed mess after that both Mycroft and Sherlock had agreed that she handled it well and that she should take some time off to step back from mother bearing duties (i.e. Our Mummy is going to bite your head off if you don’t go and this is no way to make sure the baby is healthy. You need your rest.)

Sherlock had been only too doting on his wife to be. He had been around her when he wasn’t off taking a small case within the city limits of London or doing research at Bart’s for the pregnancy. He had brought several large documents back and would read to her his findings even if she was too tired to care about it which was an alarming number of times. However, now she was resting comfortably in his bed after having to run around with Mary for groceries and such.

Sherlock had used this as an opportunity to sidle up next to his slumbering girlfriend and press a hand against her belly. His ear soon following suit as he listened for any movement. There wasn’t any for a while but it stayed pressed as carefully as possible against Molly. The rest of his limbs stay planted on the floor - he was kneeling.

“You must be resting just like your Mother. Hmmm.” He commented as he slid his hand down her stomach feeling the expanse of it. She wasn’t entirely large but she had grown since the pregnancy started and so anything more than what she had been prior was a development. “I wonder what you’ll want to do. Will you be a doctor like your mother? Or would you want to do something else?" 

He spoke quietly to her for a little while. Hoping to elicit some sort of response from it. They didn’t know what they were having as of yet. Molly and Sherlock both agreed that they would wait even though many others felt it would be better if they knew so that there wouldn’t be many exchanges to make as for decor and clothing. Mostly, Sherlock’s folks. Their friends were only too happy to be buying anything for a child produced by Sherlock Holmes. 

It was when he was starting to lull from the quietness that he felt the small “kick” come from where his hand was laying. He gasped, jumping back a little as he looked at the curve of her stomach. Was that it?

He sidled back up towards her and placed his hand back towards it waiting for it to happen again. All he got was Molly’s bleary eyes opening and her calling with a smile, “Sherlock what are you doing?”

"It kicked, Molly.”

“Oh, that’s right you’ve never felt it do that before.” She smiled as she yawned. 

He hummed waiting a little longer before standing up realizing that might have been it for the time. He leaned over Molly and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Go back to sleep.” He told her as he touched her cheek softly with his fingertips.

“Mkay.” She said slowly, she was already sleeping.

He chuckled.


	59. Oh, Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: Molly's verbally abusive brother visits and Sherlock puts him in his place.

**Originally posted on October 10, 2013**

* * *

 

Sherlock had only stopped by to return the book he had borrowed from her in order to get into the mind of the criminal they had recently been investigating. Somehow reading a book that he wouldn’t normally touch because of lack of interest to him gave him volumes of information about the man they ended up capturing just as he was going for victim number five. 

It was weird but as he used to key that Molly had insisted that he take nearly five years ago when things were a little less than ideal, he found himself calling out to her when he didn’t see her in the front of the flat. “Molly…” 

She popped her head around the corner that led into the more intimate spaces of her house. “Sherlock.” She stepped into the room more fully as she slipped a more neutral looking cardigan around her shoulders. She looked to be ready to do pretty much anything. Molly wore things that were ideal for most situations unless you were going to some fancy gala, only then would he be only willing to lend her a hand or two. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked as she crossed the room to greet him. Her eyes shifting to the door even though she was clearly curious as to why he was there in her home.

“I was returning this and hoping you’d like to go out for a bit. I’m awfully bored.”

Molly shifted from one foot to the next trying to find a way to politely let him down though she would have loved to ditch her plans and go out with him for a little while. “I can’t, I’m actually supposed to be going out with someone.”

“A male companion?”

“I suppose.” She giggled nervously, rubbing her neck to try to relax as the door opened and a taller man stepped in where rather astute clothing for anyone in this era. 

Sherlock watched him closely as he gestured for Molly to come along. “I don’t have all day, Molly. We’ve had this meeting scheduled for weeks and I don’t wish to waste any more time.”

“Right…” Molly said reluctantly as she went to cross around Sherlock and join the bloke at her doorway. 

Sherlock was quick to stall her with a quick slip of his arm around her waist as he turned. He eyed the two people in the room, carefully. The resemblance was barely there but he could see it. This was someone she knew on a familial level and he didn’t like him. The way he was talking to Molly didn’t sit well with him. His grip tightened around her waist as Molly tried to tell him that she really needed to go. “I will see you later if you’re still around. This is just something I’ve been planning to do for a while.” 

Her words said what should have been seen as happiness when it came to seeing one's own brother however Sherlock knew Molly and could see how hesitant she was to withdraw his arm from around her and follow the man out the door so he didn’t let her go. “I don’t understand…” He started when the man who had the same reddish hair as Molly let out a groan of discontentment and shut the door as he stepped into the room fully. 

“This is childish. She’s already told you that she has prior engagements, I don’t see why you had to tell him anything, Molly. Clearly, you still can’t do anything on your own.” Sherlock had lifted his gaze to the man when he started talking but he felt the way Molly began to tense a bit.

“You don’t…”

“I know plenty. This guy has manipulated you many times before if you knew what was good for you, you would stay away from him.”

Sherlock growled as he shoved Molly behind him as he rushed over to the man without any more thought to it. “If you know what was good for you, you’d leave. As Molly was trying to say. You have no clue what our relationship now. Everything you think you know about me or Molly is nowhere near the truth. If you actually spoke to her more than just the one phone call every once in a while to keep in contact you would know that she hates being around you because of what you are. You enjoy coercing her into spending time with you even though you continue to dislike what she does and how she carries herself. If you were more helpful perhaps Molly wouldn’t be so darn reluctant to be leaving to go on this luncheon with the just the two of you. So no, don’t pretend to know anything about her because you don’t.”

“And I suppose you do, Sherlock Holmes?”

“More than anyone because I actually spend time with Molly who I must inform is my girlfriend. I won’t stand idly by as you bring her down to a fragile mess just to make yourself feel good. It just won’t happen. Now, do as I say and leave.”

Molly had reached them by this time. Her hand wrapped around Sherlock’s arm as she tried to pull him away from her brother. 

“Is he really your boyfriend?” Sherlock really hated people like him. They took out what they wanted to hear. Sherlock peered down at Molly with an expression that pretty much said, “Go with me on this. It’ll be much easier.” Molly nodded, “Yes, Louis.”

Louise scoffed. “Why am I not surprised?” He muttered before turning to go. “I can’t say I’m happy about this.”

“No, because you never are,” Molly mumbled.

“What was that?” Her brother asked as he turned to go.

Sherlock slid his hand down to grasp her hand. “Go on,” He was telling her non-verbally. Sherlock gave her confidence and that’s why she enjoyed having him around. Especially during this moment.

“You’re never happy, Louis. It doesn’t matter if it’s me or Mom or if it’s Dad’s anniversary you just can’t seem to find the good in anything and that’s where I pity you. Sherlock was right. I don’t need you to visit me once every couple of years to tell me how much you hate what I’m doing my life because you have it so much better. I like the way my life is going and if you’re going to be such a tit I don’t need you in it anymore. Mom has been telling me to tell you this for the longest time…I swear.” She inhaled trying to not completely breakdown over the fact that she had finally done this because this was something she needed to do for her.

By god, Thank Sherlock Holmes for actually needed to drop by for a second.

“If that’s what you want, I will be only willing to oblige. Good day to both of you.” Then he had rushed out the door. Molly let out a sigh and she stood there next to Sherlock with her hand still wrapped inside his for a few minutes before she let him go.

“Thank you, Sherlock.” It wasn’t just about giving her the push she needed but for also standing up for her before she could do it herself. It meant a lot to her to have this version of Sherlock Holmes in her life now and she hoped he’d stick around a little longer.

He did.

He nodded before taking up her hand again. “You’re a really warm person.” He muttered. Molly giggled. “Now, you notice.” She rolled her eyes before dragging him to the couch. They spent time inside watching a spy movie and eating fudge sundaes for the better part of the night. There was fudge stuck on Sherlock’s face from the nearly empty bottle that he shook until it squirted on his face and over the creation that he had made. 

Neither of them had bottled to wipe it off completely. Molly turned to him now as he snoozed beside her and smiled. “You’re such a wonderful man, Sherlock Holmes.” She told him quietly even though he was slumbering. 

His eyes opened a little as he replied, “Only when necessary other times I’m considered a git.”

“Underneath you’re wonderful.” She told him as she kissed his cheek tasting chocolate and humming in delight. “Mmm.”

Sherlock grew fully alert at that and they chuckled together. “Not my fault you’re delicious.” She joked. He just chuckled at her not bothering to tell her that he didn’t appreciate the joke, he found himself enjoying it very much. Molly just smiled before thanking him once again. 

“You’re a good friend.”

“Yeah, well you are too.” He told her, quietly. 


	60. Comforting Molly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: Molly has lost someone close to her and Sherlock does his best to comfort her.

**Originally posted on October 11, 2013**

* * *

 

Sherlock had long accepted his ability to pick and choose his good moments or his impeccable timing when it came to the moods and atmosphere with his friends and the people he surrounded himself with. It was on this day that he was in a relatively jolly mood (as jolly as he could get when it came to not having a case but finding himself in the lab peeking on cultures and some experiments he had waiting for him there).

However, there was a small annoyance or tick of displeasure that grasped at his core as he looked up his friend Molly who was standing at another table working on a test for NSY that had come in earlier in the day. She looked like she had been crying all morning and he had already noted that it wasn’t because of any man in her life. He would have known about it almost immediately.

Every so often when she figured he wasn’t looking she would daze off into space as she waited for a result to come in and a forlorn expression would befall her face. She was clearly very upset about something. Something she didn’t want to bring to his attention because she figured he had enough on his plate. He could just tell. She almost wanted to tell him about it but kept going back to her work and trying to focus once more. It was a rather futile attempt.

He did not ask however seeing how rattled she already was. He simply waited. Keeping tabs on her balance of work and dazing off for a time until finally, Molly rushed off into her office with the necessary files that she needed to send off. She stayed in there for more time than she should have which brought Sherlock to her door.

He peeked in watching the way she sniffled and bowed her head while palming a photograph that lay unframed on her desk flat. He slowly walked over and looked at who was in it. It was Molly and another woman who was beautiful in her own right. Both women looked to be in their university days. They both wore a sweatshirt from their alma mater as they clung to each other’s side. “You were very close to her, I imagine.” He spoke aloud.

Molly jumped slightly at the sound of Sherlock’s voice so close. She had moved to her office to have a moment of privacy not wanting him to see her a sniveling and emotional mess but clearly, that was all for naught. “Oh, hello Sherlock.” She said quietly doing her best to wipe her face and look adequate at best as she looked up at him. It didn’t really help due to her reddened eyes and sniffs as she tried to regain composure. “Yes, she was lovely. A really good friend of mines since childhood really.”

“May I?” He asked after a few minutes. Molly stepped back a few feet in order for him to take the photography in his hand. Molly looked nearly the same apart from the shorter cut that her hair had been back then and she looked happier. Very much so. He turned over the photography knowing Molly usually wrote a little message on the back like most folks. “ _After clinicals were over. Julie and I_.”

“We had just had lunch a few days ago while she was in the city. Then she got in an accident on the way back home from work. Just like that.” She came to an abrupt halt as she tried not to start crying again.

Sherlock wasn’t particularly good at this kind of thing but he knew that this was a particularly rough time for Molly. He would try to help the best that he could given the most. Besides, it upset him a great deal when she cried, especially in front of him.

So he crouched down a bit and gave her a slight hug, pulling up slightly from her chair and smoothing down her hair which was in a messy bun. “I won’t pretend to not know how it feels to lose someone you hold precious but I suppose it is easier knowing she’s not suffering anymore. The time you shared together must have made her time better.”

Molly was slightly reluctant to reach out and twist her arms around Sherlock’s shoulder and he held her at such an awkward angle but she was too raw at the edges to care that he might not be okay with it. He was the one who was being reassuring to her during her time of mourning. So she slowly slipped her arms around his shoulder and whispered a shaky, “Thank you” to him before quickly letting him go. Sherlock patted her back awkwardly before letting Molly slump back in her chair.

She wiped her eyes to do away with any excess tears. “I know you think it’s silly but you were right my time with Julie has been some of my fondest memories. Thanks for attempting to ease my grief in your own way.”

Sherlock nodded, “It’s what friends do, right?”

Molly smiled faintly, nodding as she let out a shaky breath. She thumbed the photograph another time before clicking on her computer to take it out of sleep mode. She had work to do. She did appreciate Sherlock’s thoughtfulness. It was very human of him and she would remember it fondly when he was being less than that.


End file.
